


Making it Work

by sheankelor



Series: Cherished [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5980273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheankelor/pseuds/sheankelor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron knew that Hermione was his One, but fought against it. Between giving out advice to Harry and attempting not to destroy the trio, he tries to show how much he cares for Hermione. Eventually he accepts that they can be a couple and tries to make things work for them. This is Ron's point of view for "The Dungeon".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Denial and Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to YenGirl for editing this. She is the best! Any errors left are my own.

_ Denial and Acceptance _

"You need to break it to Ginny nicely." Ron leaned over the edge of his bed so he was closer to where Harry sat on the edge of his, packing his bookbag. "Soon, but nicely."

Harry shoved the last book into his bag, his head turning towards Ron. "What?"

"That you can't go out with her."

Harry stared at him, disbelief evident on his face. "Why?"

Ron nodded towards the bookbag. "You slipped the Half-Blood Prince's book into your bag. I know you and Ginny went to put it in the Room of Requirements."

He grinned at Harry's eyes widening. "I won't mention it, but if you were really attached to Ginny, you would have left it there."

"You think so? I mean, it's a dead useful book."

Ron nodded. "It is, but it's also one that contains the writings of someone you like a lot. Sure, you study his spells, his potion changes, but you also studied his handwriting and all the little comments he made throughout the book. You love his snarky statements, how he twists words, how he views things. That you can't leave it behind – that you can't leave _him_ behind, means that you are not as attached to Ginny as you should be to make your relationship with her work."

Harry looked torn between embarrassment and amusement. "You're one to talk about relationships." He finally settled for quirking a grin at his best friend.

"I know, trust me, I do, but …" Ron sighed. How could he explain the dynamics between him and Hermione to Harry? How could he make his best mate understand his dilemma? "If I tried to make a go at it with Hermione, and it fell apart, it would rip us up. The three of us. Shoot, her and I together could destroy our trio without the two of us breaking up. Just us being together, leaving you to feel like the odd man out ..." Shaking his head, Ron sighed again. "I can't do that to us, mate."

"But... but you've been interested in her since fourth year!" Harry jumped to his feet and paced between their beds. "You both deserve a chance!"

Ron fell back onto his bed and stared up at the canopy above him. _'A chance? She's my only real chance to have someone perfect for me. She is the One. Every generation of Weasleys have someone who is blessed to find their One. They will know it the moment the meet – Dad found Mum that way. Spotted her in the Common Room and knew there would be no one else for him. Uncle Bart says that Dad lost his temper over him attempting to take Mum from Dad, and Bartholomew Pusset wouldn't lie about things like that.'_ Closing his eyes, he gave Merlin thanks that Uncle Bart and Aunt Sarah were neutral and lived out of the country. If it weren't for him and his siblings, Ron knew that Mum and Dad would have taken up the Pusset's invitation to stay in Romania where Uncle Bart worked at the same dragon preserve as Charlie. Pushing those thoughts aside, he answered Harry.

"She'll find someone and I'll ..." He stopped, knowing that he would never find anyone better than Hermione. "That isn't the issue now – right now we need to find out who this Half-Blood Prince is or was."

Harry dropped onto the bed next to him, causing Ron to open his eyes.

"Was? Do you think he is dead?" Harry flopped backwards. "And why do we need to learn who he is? Ginny and Hermione are convinced he's not a good person."

Ron sat up and looked down at Harry. "That's why we need to. If he isn't, we need to find out what happened. You like his snarky personality, his biting comments and such, but he was like this when he was in sixth year – what happened to him? Did he become even more cynical? Was that caused by events occurring around him, or by things that happened to him? That way when you find someone who's just as snarky that you fall for, you have a clue how to keep them from becoming bitter, or how to help them be less bitter if they are already on the road there."

Green eyes narrowed slightly as Harry grinned. "You didn't explain the was part."

A sheepish look crossed Ron's face and he shrugged self-consciously. "The book – it is used. It was a used book before you got it. The marks on the pages, the way they look – I recognize it. It was a hand-me-down book when the Half-Blood Prince used it. Even so – that means the Prince might have passed on. There was a war happening... and he was a half-blood."

"Oh." Harry rubbed his scar self-consciously. "Do you think his name was Prince?"

Ron shrugged again. "It's a place to start. We can research the Prince line and see who fit the description."

"Should we get Hermione to help?"

Ron shook his head. "She doesn't like the book and I don't think she will understand."

§§§§§

"It's Snape." Ron refused to shudder or sound disgusted as he announced his findings. The absolute horror on Harry's face was enough.

"Severus Snape? Dungeon Git extraordinaire?" Disbelief coated Harry's words.

"Sorry, mate, but it's him. His mum was Eileen Prince and his dad was Tobias Snape, a muggle. He's the only half-blood in the Prince bloodline in centuries, and the book isn't _that_ old."

With a smile fought out of a grimace, Harry spoke, "Well, he's alive."

Ron nodded. "Now we have to figure out what made him this bitter, angry at everyone man."

He agreed with the disbelief and uncertainty on Harry's face. He didn't think they would succeed in either. "At least we know he's no longer on You-Know-Who's side." He wasn't positive he believed that, but if it made it easier for Harry to accept that the personality he loved was residing in their horrible Professor, then he would do what he could to help.

"That is at least a step in the right direction, but he hates me." Harry sighed as he leaned against the tree. "That doesn't bode well with me getting along with the personality that I love."

Ron patted his shoulder in sympathy. He understood the impossible. "Look on the bright side, mate. You've been doing the impossible for a while now."

Harry's rolled eyes and half grin was all he needed. They would get through this. They would find the person for Harry and he would find someone who could fit him about as well as Hermione would have.

§§§§§

Ron clutched the deluminator closer to his ear. Hermione said his name, he had heard it as plain as day. Shuddering lightly, he listened as hard as he could. He needed to hear her, hear them. The radio, the papers, everyone was talking about the hunt for Harry, which only meant they were not dead. He remembered the freezing cold, the lack of food, the gnawing sense of uneasy, and how the locket affected them. Those two were still suffering from it, and he wished with all his soul that he could be there with them.

Leaning forward, he rested his head against his knees. He knew he was wrong to leave, he knew that their fights were caused by the locket and Voldemort, but it hadn't stopped him from storming out of there, temper flaring. All he could see while he was wearing the blasted thing was Hermione becoming closer and closer to Harry. Yes, he knew that Harry wasn't interested - Hermione wasn't snarky and as cutting with her phrases as Snape - but it didn't change what he saw. Harry might not be perfectly matched for Hermione, but she seemed to think they were, at least that's how it appeared with the locket on.

Flopping back on his bed, his eyes tightly closed, Ron let out a deep sigh.

Memories from his childhood echoed in his head. Uncle Bart regaling them with how Mum and Dad got together. Dad telling them how he was the one from his generation of Weasleys to _know_ who was the one for him. His cousins and siblings all hoping that they were the blessed one for this generation.

 _'I never thought it would be me. Even when Hermione opened the door on the train and I felt my heart pang in recognition, I didn't believe.'_ Shaking his head at this understatement, Ron clutched the deluminater closer. Before the troll incident he had convinced himself that the recognition from the train was a fluke. Afterwards he had convinced himself that an intelligent girl like Hermione couldn't possibly wish to be with him, and so he discounted the possibility that she was his one and only – no matter how much he knew he was wrong in his heart. He fought it tooth and nail for the next three years, finding every possible reason she would hate him, that they would not suit each other. After he got over himself about Harry and the tournament, he also accepted that he was the one from this generation to know.

 _'By then I missed the opportunity to ask her to the dance. Too scared to do it earlier - it would mean that somehow we were going to be together forever - and even more scared to do it later, for the exact same reason.'_ Sighing, he quirked a partial grin before opening his eyes to stare up at the ceiling. By the end of fourth year he knew if he and Hermione became a couple it would tear apart their group, so he let her go. He had even attempted to date Lavender in hopes that he could accept second best. A slight snort escaped him. _'As if.'_ Scrubbing a hand over his face, he let it drop to his chest. _'It doesn't really matter anyway. I did a good enough job destroying our little trio anyway.'_

A deep sigh left his lips, releasing all the tension built up in him. He had attempted to go back right after he left, well after he dealt with the snatchers, but it had been to no avail. They were gone, and the protective spells were too strong.

Picking up the deluminator, he flicked the lid open and aimed it at the light shining in the corner of his room. It went out, just like the light in his heart. Staring out his window, he wished he could find them, both of them. It wouldn't matter if Harry and Hermione were a couple. All that would matter was that he could help them. That he could make sure they were okay. _'The heart of the one who knows is supposed to be like a compass, always leading them to their One.'_

Holding onto that thought, doing his best not to let all his past dismissal of the Weasley family magic influence what he felt, Ron tried to find Hermione. The deluminator warmed in his hand and he released the trapped light. Instead of appearing in the room, it became a blue light just outside. He rushed towards it and into it, his rucksack filled with everything he could think they would need. Sadness filled him when the light flowed into him instead of taking him away; he had thought it would show him the way back to his friends.

Forcing the sadness away, he focused on the new feeling inside his head. The light seemed to amplify his inner compass so he held onto his belief in magic and Apparated.

§§§§§

"Harry, don't give up." Ron glanced around the tent, making sure Hermione wasn't close enough to overhear their conversation.

"Snape killed Dumbledore, he is running the school and students are hurt there on a regular basis, and I am not supposed to give up?" Harry glared at the books sitting on the table between them.

Compressing his lips together, Ron sighed. "No, if you do, you wouldn't be Harry Potter. There might be something good in Snape, something hidden."

Harry's eyes shot up to Ron's, disbelief reflected in them. "We were just going to figure out how his personality became so bitter. Why should I be looking for something good in Snape?"

"Simple, mate." Ron gave a wry grin. "You are you. You never do things the easy way, or the conventional way." He swept his arm about, indicating their surroundings as proof of his statement. "You have fallen for the most irritable, aggravating, and possible stubborn man on the planet. Of course he has to work for the other side of this war."

"He might still be a spy." Harry didn't sound too hopeful, but the wish that it was the truth was evident in his face.

Ron just nodded. "You love him and that is all there is to that. Now we just have to see if there is some way to get you a happily ever after."

Harry gave a mirthless laugh. "Both of us are in the position to be killed quickly dependent on the side that wins - it doesn't bode well for us getting together, even if he would want me."

A quiet resigned look came over Ron's face. "Then you need to cherish him the best you can. Keep trying to find someone who can take his place in your heart, but cherish him the best you can."

Harry's hands covered his, tightening slightly.

"You can date Hermione, you two are meant to be together."

Ron felt his shoulders stiffen. He hadn't told anyone that he was the blessed one. "She can find someone better than me."

"Your siblings talked during the wedding preparations. Hermione is the One, isn't she? And you've known it for years, haven't you?" Harry continued as Ron stared at him. "Charlie was asking Bill if he was the blessed one this generation. Bill said he wasn't, and they were all nice enough to let me know what they were talking about. You're the blessed one, aren't you?"

Giving a sharp nod, Ron tried to leave the table. Harry's hands kept him there.

"Then try, Ron. One of us should find happiness. If you two get together, our little group will be fine. I know you two won't exclude me from everything. We will still be best mates, and seeing you two happy will help me."

Sighing, Ron worked his hands free. "I won't actively prevent anything from happening, but right now is not the time to start a relationship."

"Once we win, then you can give it a go."

Ron pinned Harry with a stern look. "We both can."

§§§§§

"You kissed her?" Harry leaned against the wall, his wand dangling from his fingers.

Ron glanced over to where Hermione was holding Ginny as she sobbed over Fred's dead body. He knew he should be there. He had been earlier, holding his mum, rubbing George's back when Dad took Mum, before Harry came to hold him. He wasn't ashamed of crying his heart out on Harry's shoulder, Harry's tears had mingled with his mum's and George's on his. Now he and Harry were just inside the Great Hall's doors protected by the privacy charms Harry just finished casting.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Ron let a tired grin out before pulling them to the other side of the doors. The privacy charms followed them. "Yeah, mate. I did. When we destroyed the monster in the cup, I was so relieved and happy, that I just did. We did." The grin turned into a soft smile and unknown to him, his eyes glowed with an inner happiness.

"Are you two a couple now?" Harry leaned forward, his smile just as soft and happy. "If any two people deserve to be happy it is you two. You followed me into everything with just a few minor hiccups."

Ron sighed at the hiccup part, but nodded. "It's the red hair. We are prone to losing our tempers. Luckily mine is a flash burn. After fourth year, I learned not to let my embarrassment of my mistaken anger keep me away, and this year I leaned not to leave an undetectable camp."

Harry's laugh warmed him. "At least you can learn – that is why you two can make it together. You'd do anything to please her, even learn things that you normally wouldn't, and she is willing to teach you."

Letting out a small laugh – surprised that it didn't feel out of place, Ron folded his hands behind his back and leaned against the wall. "Well, she is super brilliant and she glows when she shows just what she knows. She looks really good when she glows with happiness."

Harry nodded. "That she does. Your task now is to keep her looking that happy."

Ron shook his head. "No, I know that will not happen. I will make her mad, upset, happy, sad, and everything in between. That is part of being a couple. You better be prepared for it."

Harry folded into himself, his smile vanishing like a puff of smoke. "Snape died, Ron. We watched it happen. I…" he paused to swallow, "I don't know if I will find another person who has the same personality."

"He's alive." Ron placed a supporting hand on Harry's shoulder. "I took Madam Pomfrey to the Shack to bring his body back here. She insisted on running a diagnostic spell, and it showed he was alive."

He cracked another grin as Harry shot upright, green eyes wide like saucers. Then he put out another hand to stop Harry from bolting.

"Hold on, mate. He is in a guarded room somewhere in the castle, she isn't telling anyone where."

Ever since Harry's revelation to Voldemort about Snape's true allegiance, people from both sides were attempting to get to him. Ron hadn't been sure what to feel when the Healer told him that the professor was barely alive. Harry was fixated on Snape, and Ron thought he might move on if the man was no longer there. The look on Harry's face right now assured him this was the best outcome.

"Alive? Do you think Pomfrey will let me see him?" Harry shrugged off Ron's hands, but Ron replaced them, gripping his shoulder firmly.

"I doubt it. She is worse than she is when keeping people away from you." He squeezed Harry's shoulder as his friend slumped back against the wall, defeat evident in his expression. "Don't worry, you will have your time. I know you will succeed."

Green eyes met his and Harry nodded. "Just as you will with Hermione. Are you two planning on a long courtship dating thing?"

"We haven't talked about it yet, but I think she'll want us to be settled in our respective professions first." As Harry nodded in agreement, the both looked over towards the Great Halls' doors as they opened. Arthur and the rest of the Weasleys filtered out with Hermione trailing them. Ron spotted Harry cancelling the privacy spell.

"There you are, Ron. We are going home, are you coming?" Arthur crossed over to them, his face pale and drawn, his gaze resting on Harry. "You are welcome too, Harry."

Harry pushed Ron gently towards his family. "Coming, Mr Weasley."

"Call me Dad, Harry, you are part of this family, so you have the right." Blue eyes blinked a few tears away, before a hand landed on both of their shoulders. "I am proud of both of you, Ron, Harry." He turned slightly, bringing Hermione into their circle. "All three of you. No matter what happens, no matter how relationships fall, Harry, Hermione, you are both part of this family."

Ron felt his dad's eyes rest on him, trying to determine something, before those gentle hands pushed them towards the door.

"Let's all go home." Molly wiped her face and fell into step by Arthur, both of them leading their family out of Hogwarts.

§§§§§

Ensconced in his bedroom, Ron looked from Hermione to Harry.

"I don't want to be an Auror." It was while helping Madam Pomfrey that Ron had changed his mind. He watched them, hoping they would accept his about face decision.

Hermione searched his face and Harry nodded before he spoke. "Neither do I. I have no clue what I want to be, do you?"

"A Healer." Ron waited for them to scorn his choice, but instead he saw understanding and acceptance.

"I want to work with charms - something simple that everyone will use and enjoy." Hermione settled back on the wall behind the bed. "Maybe I can work for a broom company. Then I can know that you two are safe while flitting about. I'll have to get my NEWTs, but I think we can sit the tests without taking the classes."

Harry sighed deeply. "You both know, and I don't."

"Don't rush it, mate. It'll come to you." Ron wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders and settled down to enjoy the peaceful moment. Both Harry and Hermione thought he would want to be downstairs with his family to mourn over the loss of Fred, but it was here that he felt he could heal.


	2. From a Distance

 

Ron waited, hoping the panel would reach a decision soon. He was shocked they had not asked him to leave while they talked about his fate

A blonde haired Healer leaned forwards, her hand flat on the table as she spoke emphatically. "He doesn't have the NEWT scores. He doesn't have _any_ NEWT scores."

The eldest of the group shifted his faded brown eyes towards a black haired Healer who growled under his breath before he spoke.

"He was too busy helping stop You-Know-Who and keeping us alive."

Another jumped in, this one shaking his head. "No excuse! We have strict standards, we have to – there are patients' lives in the balance. If we just let anyone in, then who knows what can happen."

"He can't go back to Hogwarts to get the classes. He might not be the Boy-Who-Lived, but he is the next best thing. They will be mobbing him, and that is not a good studying environment."

The blonde nodded as she leaned even further over the table. "And those people will be mobbing St Thaddeus just to get to him. The learning environment will be destroyed for all of our other students. We cannot risk it!"

With those words, Ron felt his heart crash. He clenched his hands in his lap and considered just walking out, but the memory of the last time he stormed out kept him in his chair, Hermione would be very disappointed if his temper caused him to flub this. Imagining Harry and Hermione sitting next to him, Ron unfisted his hands and waited. Waiting was something he had had a lot of practice with. He felt someone watching him and glanced about, noticing the elder's contemplative look resting on him. Those faded, but sharp eyes met his, searching for something, before the man turned his attention back to the collection of Healers.

"And yet he risked his family, his friends, his livelihood, not to mention his life just so we could continue having this school."

Ron's attention was jerked to the last member of the panel. The brunette had been quiet up to this point, letting the others talk. She hadn't even looked at Ron since he walked into the room, so he truly had no idea what she was thinking. Her statement not only took him by surprise, but the others as well – all but the elder.

The brunette's gaze pinned the blonde to her seat. "You know as well as I do that You-Know-Who was going to destroy our school and build another one to teach the values and ideas he wanted to be known. If Mr Weasley, along with Mr Potter and Miss Granger, had not ended the war when they did our doors would be closed and most of our students would be dead along with everyone sitting in this room."

The blonde flipped her hair over her shoulder, her eyes never straying to Ron as she answered. "Yes, and I am grateful, but it doesn't mean we should lower our standards for one of the people who made it possible for us to maintain them. This boy has only six years of Hogwarts training. He has not even been in his seventh year classes, how can we expect him to succeed here? Why are we setting him up for failure? We are not prepared to teach the Hogwarts curriculum, and as he does not have the requisite Charms, Potions, and Herbology knowledge needed."

Even though he knew the blonde was right, and he was sure she just destroyed any hope he had, Ron forced himself to stay relaxed in his seat as the elder studied him again. In the back of his mind he could hear Harry and Hermione wishing him luck that morning. Harry's parting comment came back, one that rang true and one he was afraid would come to pass. _The worst they can do is tell you no._ It was the rest of his statement that kept him in his chair. _But make them say it, don't let them make you mad enough that you give up, not if you really want this._

Leaning back against the seat back, Ron waited. He knew he would have to study hard, perhaps the hardest he had every done in his entire life, but he wanted this and would do his best to succeed.

The smallest upward twist of the elder's lips caught his attention. The man had done nothing but barely shift his eye this way as his chair was positioned in a manner that afforded him a complete view of the room's occupants. That tiny smile went unnoticed by the others, but Ron was now curious as to what it held in store for him.

"Healer Armstrong, you are correct, he has not sat the classes." The elder's voice cut through the hubbub of the other Healers rejecting the blonde's statement. "But he has proven capable of completing seemingly impossible tasks."

Ron found himself caught by those faded brown eyes and sat up straighter, waiting to hear what was about to be said.

"Mr Ronald Weasley, St Thaddeus Academy of Healers will offer you a place here as long as you agree to our requirements."

Those eyes narrowed slightly, as if to stop the words that were battering about in Ron's head from leaving. Ron knew the look was not necessary, he had plenty of practice keeping his words behind his teeth as elders spoke. One did not talk back to Aunt Muriel once she started.

"You must live on the campus grounds with the international students. No one can know you are here, so you will not be permitted to step off the grounds or go near the edge of the perimeter. I would prefer it if you did not exit the building. St Thaddeus will expect you to complete the Healer course in two years."

Ron felt his eyes widen. Two years was short. The normal program lasted three, and he was coming in without the knowledge from his seventh year.

"As you shall be with the international students, you shall be in the accelerated program with them. It is year long, without breaks."

The brunette frowned slightly and broke in. "They have a break at Christmas time, three weeks."

"I do not expect you to need that break, Mr Weasley."

"Actually sir, it would be needed. Hermione, Harry, and I were planning on sitting our NEWTs over the Christmas Holidays." Ron waited, hoping this would not destroy his opportunity.

Armstrong's eyes widened. "You are going to sit them without completing the classes?"

Ron nodded and waited to hear what the elder said.

"Then you shall have one week, Mr Weasley, this year."

Memories of Harry's summer confinements came back and Ron wondered if he could do this. Harry had complained, and rightfully so, about not knowing what was going on. _'Letters! Harry wasn't permitted letters. I have to make sure I can write at least Harry and Hermione.'_

Ron pulled up his version of his Dad's no-nonsense expression and tone. "I will have to be able to tell my family where I am, along with Harry and Hermione. They will not spread it about. Also, I will be able to write them."

"Only two of them, Mr Potter and Miss Granger, shall receive letters. They can inform your family of how you are doing."

Ron frowned slightly. Mum's clock would let her know he was safe, but she would still like to receive a letter periodically. Maybe he can get one out in a letter to Harry or Hermione. "I need to talk this over with my family."

The elder nodded slowly. "You have until tomorrow morning to let us know, and your studies will begin in four days. If you accept you shall be here in the evening, three days from now."

With that final statement, the elder waved Ron away.

Striding out the door, Ron headed for the apparition point. He had a lot to discuss, but very little time to do it.

§§§§§

"I don't know, Mum." Ron rested his elbows on the table, watching his mum stir a pot of stew. "They want to know tomorrow morning, so basically – I have to decide tonight, but … how can I handle being cut off from everyone? Being locked up, imprisoned basically, restricted to one building with only my books and such."

The wooden spoon thunked against the side of the pot before his mum placed it on a nearby saucer and turned to look at him. "You want to be a Healer?"

The question was straightforward, no undertones of disbelief or questioning of his sanity. Ron nodded, his eyes searching her face, trying to determine what her opinion of that was.

"And this is the only way to do it? There are no other schools? No other training programs?"

Ron shook his head. "I can't find any."

Mum's hands wrapped around his as she sat across from him, her gaze boring into his eyes. "If this is what you wish to do, and it is the only way to get there, then I know you can do it. It will be hard, not only on you, but Harry and Hermione as well." Her eyes dropped to the table for a moment before lifting up to his again. "And to the rest of the family. Don't let that stop you. You've pushed through many difficult things, and so have we. It is for two years, we can do it."

"You and Dad – are you going to need help here?"

It wasn't his mum who answered. "Don't worry about us, son."

Ron whipped his head around towards to the door and saw his dad standing there. "Why not? With Fred..."

He stopped, his throat closing and his eyes burning as tears came perilously close to the surface.

Mum squeezed his hands as Dad answered in the same serious tone as before. "Fred would want you to achieve your dreams. He worked hard to make his work, and would expect the same from you. If that means we don't see you for two years, then that is what we do."

"I would have to be at St Thaddeus the evening of Fred's funeral."

Mum's hands convulsed about his, but her face was filled with resolve. "Then we shall make sure your bags are packed."

Dad's hand settled on his shoulder. "You will be fine, we will be fine, and you will succeed. I know you will."

§§§§§

Throwing himself onto the bed, Ron heard the door shut behind him. The gentle click seemed to mock his frustration. One month. That's how long he's been trapped here. One month of non-stop studying. The International Program students had it easier than he did. He had noticed that immediately. The elder, Healer Kindle, had assured him that he would be working with the international students, but half the time the Healers who scheduled him into his courses placed him with the regular Healers-in-training and the other half the time scheduled in with the international ones. Then, as he walked to and fro, hunting for a snack, dinner, the loo, or anything else, the instructors would pull him into an impromptu class, or to help them work with a patient that was staying at St Thaddeus for the advanced students to hone their skills with.

All in all, this created havoc with his knowledge and studying. One set of instructors expected him to know something that the others in the class had learned in a course he wasn't in, and not expect him to know something he learned in other ones, or picked up helping one of the many times he was called upon. He had attempted to find out if he could be used in the advanced patient rooms and found he could, but only if the instructor was there.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he vowed to hide in his room tonight, no matter if he was hungry or thirsty. Dinner wasn't as important as a peaceful moment of studying. Flinging his hand above his head, he sat up quickly as his fingers hit a scroll resting on his pillow, one he hadn't noticed earlier. Anger and frustration vanished the second he recognized Harry's handwriting. Opening the letter quickly, he devoured the words.

_Morning Ron! Well, it is morning here. I don't know when you are going to get to read this. I do hope those instructors have backed off some. I think it is wrong that they are jerking you around like that. Hermione agrees._

Ron sighed as a smile curled his lips. He already knew Hermione's opinion, her letter had arrived yesterday. Her advice on how to organize his notes and materials helped today during classes. He could see what was learned where and he was already making connections between dissimilar things. He was planning on organizing the rest of his notes tonight.

_You will never guess what happened yesterday. I was going down Diagon Alley, yes I know I wasn't thinking, or rather I was thinking it was early enough that the mob wouldn't be out. Any rate, I was planning on stopping in to see how George was doing and double check that Percy was not being driven crazy. It is nice that Percy decided to help with the shop instead of going back into the Ministry, I know that George appreciates it. Percy seems to be having fun too, most of the time. I guess he would enjoy the paperwork and forms._

_I never made it inside. The mob started not long past the Leaky Cauldron. There was no way I could lead them into the shop. So, I was running down the Alley, wondering where I could go that the mob wouldn't follow. I dodged into The Dungeon Apothecary! I was so scared Snape would toss me back out into the street, but he didn't. Instead, I spent the day cleaning up the brewing area and then washing up and organizing anything he told me to. I am going back today and see if I can hide there again._

A smile curled Ron's lips. Harry finally made it in the store. Ron had been telling him to do just that since his first letter. Pulling out a piece of parchment, he started his reply to his best mate. As he asked for snacks, he felt even more like Harry during their summers from school.

§§§§§

Closing his door gently behind him, Ron checked his pillow in hopes of a letter. The longer he was here, the more he came to understand just how hard it had to have been on Harry to not hear from them during that summer they were forbidden from talking to him. A relived smile curled his lips as he noticed the folded letter on top of a small box.

Sinking onto the bed, he caressed Hermione's name written on the envelope. _'It shouldn't be this hard, missing someone who is still there.'_ Opening the box first, he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. The top was wide enough to get his hand in and pull things out, and he could tell that it was charmed just like her bag from last year, the same as the last three had been. Reaching in, he pulled out dinner and moved to the small desk. A quick heating charm on two of the individual containers later, he was enjoying baked chicken, dressing, and salad while reading Hermione's letter. It was almost perfect.

_Ron,_

_I am happy to hear that Harry and my packages have made it so that you can finally study. Of course those instructors are suspicious, but there is nothing we can do about that. I have packed enough dinners for a week. Harry promised to send snacks tomorrow. I've also included some quills to help stave off their suspicions as to what we are sending you._

_The masters here at Bolt Brooms are impressed with some of the spell combinations I have thought of. I can't tell you what they are, but Master Berrymore wants to test them on the new model they are designing._

Ron grinned. The Bolt designers were happy enough to accept Hermione without her NEWTs, hiding her away from the public, but they were as hard a set of task masters as the Healers he was working with. At least they taught her things in an orderly manner. _'Or she is just better at organizing information.'_ Of all the things about this place he regretted, it was not being able to study with Harry and Hermione. Letting his regret go, he returned to the letter, skimming over all that she was learning at the broom company. He reached the end, and sat staring at the last paragraph.

_I miss you, Ron. I see Harry once every other week, but it is not the same without you. It reminds me too much of …. I just want to see you, to talk to you. I know, you have to do what they say to become the healer you want to be, but it doesn't change that I miss you. Your smile, the way you run your hand through your hair when you are thinking, the way your fingers rest next to mine while we are eating. I can't wait until Christmas._

Running his fingers lightly over the 'Love you, Hermione', he fought the tears trying to leak out. He missed her too. He wanted to talk to her, to see her, to hear her voice again. Curling his hand, he breathed deeply, before opening his eyes. A quick wipe of his cheeks wiped away the few tears that had escaped.

As he went to fold the letter back up, he noticed there was another page. The handwriting jumped off the page, making his heart warm even more.

_Ron,_

_I know you were not supposed to have contact with us while you were there, but Hermione said she would include this with her letter._

_Dad and I wanted you to know that we are doing fine. The house is a little empty without you here, but it is something that we've gotten used to, especially after last year. At least this time we know you are somewhere safe._

_Harry stopped by yesterday and was telling us about the way those Healers are treating you. Dad is not happy with them, but he did point out that they are attempting to get you through a three year program in two, so that might be why you are learning things in a very scattered manner. If you have problems, then make sure you tell them – I doubt they have a true plan for your schedule. I looked it up, even the International Student Program lasts almost three years._

Some of the homesickness faded as Ron finished his mum's letter. The rest was filled with simple things but oh so important things: what people were doing, the state of the house and gardens, how Harry and Hermione were truly holding up, and a gentle reminder to take care of himself.

Carefully folding up both of the letter, he rested them in a small box he reserved just for his post. It was once one of Hermione's dinner boxes and he knew it could hold a lot of letters. He then sealed up the dinner container, put it back into the new box, and tucked it away on a shelf.

Focusing on the books, he picked up a quill. It was time to start studying.

§§§§§

Ron strode through the hallway, not looking right nor left. He would soon make it to his room and then he could change clothes. _'Leave it to me to have potions with a master who is scattered brained. The Git of the Dungeon was horrible, Slughorn was passable, the Half-Blood Prince wonderful, and this master is dreadful. One minute we are discussing how to make an antidote and the next she is talking about sleeping potions.'_

He spotted one of the advanced healers-in-training and their master moving towards him. Picking up the pace, he made it through his door before they could catch him. Locking it behind him, he waited, hoping they would not knock. So far that had been the case. If he was in his room, they would not try to recruit him. After a minute, he relaxed and moved over to his desk. He had a letter to write.

_Harry,_

_Mate – are you working with the Dungeon Git or the Prince? If it is the Prince, would you mind askin_ _g him some q_ _uestions for me? I don't know if it is because I haven't taken the seventh year NEWT class or if it is just because they are expecting the impossible, but I am about as lost as I can be. I don't want to bother Hermione, she is studying hard as well. If it is the Git, don't bother, I don't want him to fuss at you._

_Oh, have you figured out what made him the bitter man he is now? How are you holding up? I know that cherishing someone from a distance is tough. It would be worse if they were not nice to you, or just barely tolerating you._

§§§§§

Unfolding the thick letter, Ron was hoping that it had the answers he needed. Potions was getting more and more confusing.

_Ron,_

_The Prince and I are getting along better. I keep the place clean and organized, he keeps it stocked up and runs the front. We are not fighting like we used to, and he is talking to me and listening to me. I do continue to show that I care for him which he acknowledges in his typical subtle ways. As for making him bitter? Maybe betrayals and pressures, all I know is that he is now not so much the Git, but is not quite the Prince_ _either._ _So, I am working for a blend of the two. I did ask your questions, not mentioning that it was you who needed to know, but he guessed. I included his answers. I tried to write them down quickly, but was unable to keep up. He took over and wrote the explanations. That is the bulk of this post. He also said to make sure you go to dinner at least twice a week. If not, they have the right to com_ _e into your room and_ _investigate or withdraw you for your health._

_I have included your normal care package, but I would follow his advice. The expression on his face said he knew what he was talking about._

_He also asked me what I wanted to do this past week, and I told him I wanted to be a shopkeeper. I felt bad not being completely truthful, but I still don't know what I really want_ _to be. Working here is interesting, and I can cherish him. I hope he doesn't get mad when he learns why I said what I did. When I told him that I want to be a shopkeeper, he decided to train me! So, I am doing inventory now. I'm a bit worried about how much he is going to expect me to learn, but who knows, maybe I will enjoy it._

_Take care of yourself!_

_Harry_

Setting the letter on his desk, Ron quickly opened the thick folded parchment that had come concealed within Harry's letter. Prepared for a scathing letter about how he should learn to study, Ron read the first page. By the end, he was surprised and very grateful. It was as if the Half-Blood Prince was teaching him what he needed to understand. At the bottom of the first page was a message he could not ignore – not written in Snape's handwriting. _Mr Weasley, go to dinner._

Closing the letter, he obeyed.

§§§§§

Ron made it safely to the dinner table, sitting himself on the end. Even as he loaded his plate with mash and roast, Master Cotsworth, one of the Healers who normally caught him in the hallway, stopped next to him.

"Mr Weasley, it is good to see you tonight. We were considering monitoring your health as you have been missing a number of meals recently."

Ron added a spoon of green beans next to the mash before he answered. "I've been fine, Master Cotsworth. Just busy with studying."

The strawberry blond nodded, his pale green eyes scanning the crowd before settling back on him. "After we finish our repast, you shall join me and Mr Anderson."

Ron nodded while holding back a sigh. There was no use complaining, he would still have to do it.

"Until later, Mr Weasley. Do not linger too long, we do have patients waiting on us."

Watching the Healer leave, Ron felt his appetite fade. He didn't want to work with Anderson and Cotsworth. Sometime he was positive they pulled him in as a form of hero worship, like the people chasing Harry around. Hermione and Harry both thought it was possible, just they were being more subtle about it.

Biting back a sigh, he picked up his fork and dug into the mash. He knew better than to leave food to waste, that lesson was learned early in life. Food was not to be taken for granted.

Cotsworth and Anderson caught up with him as he walked out of the dining room.

"This way, Mr Weasley. Today we are going to be working with burn patients." Cotsworth directed him down a hall and then explained how to treat the patient and the other things he needed to know before he entered the room.

Diagnosis spells, bandaging spells, sterilizing spells, pain reliever potions, inflammation reduction potions were used, mainly by Ron as Anderson and Cotsworth stood by watching. It wasn't until late that he was able to escape to his room.

Curling up on his bed, Ron flipped Snape's explanations to the second page and began reading.

§§§§§

Morning came early, and as he opened his eyes, Ron stared at the slanted, cramped handwriting on the parchment next to his head. _'I don't think I should mention to Harry that I am waking up with Snape in the bed with me.'_

Shuddering at that mental image, and then chuckling at Harry's imagined expression, Ron banished both by conjuring up one of Hermione smiling at him. He smiled and pulled himself out of bed.

After his morning ablution, Ron tucked Snape's letter into his notebook and headed down for breakfast. Hopefully he would get a chance to finish reading it before class.

§§§§§

_Harry,_

_Thank the Snarky Prince for me. His explanations were just what I needed. I was hoping that he could answer some more. I've started writing my questions down in class, and I am going to include a copy of my notes so he can see what they are telling us. I just have a feeling they are being deliberately obtuse about this. If he doesn't want to, same as always – don't try to convince him. I'll muddle through somehow._

_It is good to hear that you two are getting along better. I know you were worried about how you get with him since he was always mad at you. This should show you that you can do it. Don't push things right now, wait until you have your NEWTs taken. He seems like a person who puts a lot of stock in those types of things. So, once you have them, then truly consider letting him know how much you care, or at least up the level of cherishing him._

_Hermione wrote me yesterday. She is going to be free over Christmas! I can't wait to see her and you. I now understand why you clung to us when you were freed from your relatives' place. This is hard!_

§§§§§

Hermione's letter came in the same day as Harry's. Holding them in his hand, he could tell that Harry's was much heavier. _'I wonder it is because Snape decided to help?'_

Setting Harry's letter aside, he opened Hermione's. With his heart beating quickly, he read it. Even though it was full of basic day to day information, a smile stretched his lips wide. Reading it again, he savoured the words and her handwriting, and most of all Hermione herself. He finally let out a deep sigh of contentment, set the letter gently on the bed and opened Harry's.

Folding back the first page, a large packet fell out of the centre. Picking it up, it enlarged in his hand and Ron realized that it had to be at least twenty pages long. A quick scan of the pages had him grinning hard. It had all the markings of a Snape lecture without the looks or point deductions. He set it aside to read Harry's letter, but he knew he would be reading it before leaving for dinner, no matter what Snape told him to do.

§§§§§

Quickly shutting his door behind him, Ron compressed his lips into a tight line. Yes, he knew they didn't want him to go home, and that for some reason the instructors loved having him being their sole student for the past five days.

Everyone else was gone. The patients had been all transferred into St Mungo's a week ago and the international students had left along with most of the instructors two days later. He had hoped for a bit of study time since there were no scheduled classes, but he had learned very quickly that was not to be. Master Cotsworth was the first to hunt him down followed by all the others that remained. He was learning advanced trauma care before learning the basics, though to tell the truth he learned most of it with Cotsworth throughout the last couple of months.

Dismissing it all from his mind, Ron packed his bags, grabbing only the essentials including his books and notes. Glancing at his clothes, he opted to leave most of them for now. He was just finishing a growth spurt and would have to purchase new ones. _'I need to ask Mum if there is a charm to lengthen thes_ _e anymore.'_ He doubted it, the sleeves and legs were so threadbare that he was worried about shredding them with a spell.

Picking up the leather bound journal, his frown twisted into a small smile. Every letter from Harry came with a lesson from Snape. Ron had decided long ago that the man was just recording his lectures down and sending them to him. Then there was the additional information, parts where Snapeexplained the potions not covered in NEWTs which were clearly marked. He had asked Hermione for an old book cover so he could carry the notes around without the Healers knowing. She had sent this leather journal cover. Using skills born of necessity, Ron had bound Snape's notes into the journal cover and numbered the pages.

When he arrived at the Burrow, Mum pulled him into a tight hug.

"It is so good to see you home." He was slowly released and Mum looked him over from head to toe, her eyes bright. "They've been feeding you at least, and you've shot up again."

Dad smiled at him before pulling him into a welcoming hug. "When do you need to return?"

"Healer Cotsworth said I was to be back in school by three in the afternoon on New Year's Day." Ron was still surprised since the Healer Kindle had only given him one week, and that would put him back at the school on the thirty-first. Just to be sure he wasn't breaking the requirements, he had Cotsworth put his return time in writing and sign it.

"Plenty of time to go shopping then." Mum pulled him towards the kitchen, banishing his bags to his room.

Ron didn't bother to resist, Mum's cooking was far better than the cook at the school. He did look around the rooms as they travelled through them though. "Where are Hermione and Harry?"

"Hermione is upstairs putting her bags into Ginny's room." Dad watched his face closely, a small smile playing about his lips. "And Harry isn't here yet. He hasn't flooed either."

"I was about to call his flat to see if he's there." Mum set a plate of biscuits onto the table next to a glass of milk before turning back to them. "If Snape has him working today..."

"If he does, Harry wouldn't mind. Harry likes working there. Snape keeps the press out, and Harry is learning how to work the shop." Ron settled at the table, picking up a biscuit and the glass of milk. "They normally shut the doors around six or seven, and I know that Snape was going to let him off either early today or just not come in."

Even as Ron said that, he fought a frown. In Harry's last letter, he mentioned that Snape was closing the doors around eleven this morning, and was only selling to customers who required a daily dose of a fresh made potion. Those thoughts were pushed out of his mind as Hermione came through the door. Jumping to his feet, Ron rushed over to her, feeling the watchful eyes of his parents on them.

Pulling her into a hug, he buried his face in her hair and took a deep breath. They stood like that for a moment, savouring the other, before Ron let her go. "Do you want to go for a walk?"

Hermione nodded, a faint flush colouring her cheeks.

Arthur prevented Molly for stopping them as they slipped out the door. As the door closed behind them, he pulled her into his arms. "Ron is the one to know this generation."

Molly's eyes widened as she took in the implication. "Hermione is going to really be part of the family? The wedding will have to wait until Ron is finished school. I wonder what her parents are like?"

Smiling softly, Arthur dropped a light kiss on her forehead. "We have plenty of time to find out."

§§§§§

It was almost six when Ron flooed Harry's flat. "Harry, where are you?"

He watched as a tired Harry sank next to the hearth. ""I'm here, Ron. Where are you?"

"At the Burrow, where _you_ are supposed to be."

Harry's eyes widened. "I forgot today was Christmas Eve!"

Ron felt his own eyes widen in disbelief. "How in Merlin's beard – never mind. Get over here. Mum is worried, going on about how Snape is keeping you and working you to death." Ron smiled and shook his head. "She doesn't seem to understand you would rather be there than here, and I am not going to be the one to explain to her that you care for the bat."

"I'll floo through, just let my grab everyone's presents and my bag."

"Dinner's going on the table, so make it quick." Ron pulled out of the floo. In less than a minute, he and Hermione were grabbing Harry as he stumbled through. Ron hugged him while supporting him before grabbing his bag. He then grinned and headed for the stairs. "Mum said you're staying there tonight. I'll put this up in my room, save me a seat near you and Hermione!"

"Will do!" Harry's words came to him while Ron took the stairs two at a time. It was wonderful to hear Harry's voice again and even better to see him in person. Almost as wonderful as it was to see and hear Hermione. He returned in time to hear about the crisis at St Mungo's. A frisson of worry shot through him as he thought of the patients he knew.

Waving Harry away with a loaded plate a little bit later, Ron hoped that everything was working out.

It wasn't that long after Harry left that Ron heard his voice coming from the floo. "Ron! Ron! Come here!"

Rushing there, he dropped to his knees, doing his best to keep his worry out of his face and voice. "What happened, Harry?"

"Two owls became three. Snape has at least twelve cauldrons ready to start, and is working on four currently. I don't know what happened at St Mungo's, but it is obviously bad and still going on. I'm staying to help. At least I can scrub and prep. It might save him a bit of time."

Ron understood just why Harry was staying. There was no way he would leave Hermione is a situation like this, even if all he could do was find books or clean up after her. Harry wouldn't leave Hermione in trouble either, especially if he had the skills to help. Ron knew he could help Snape with the simple potions – the man had been teaching them to him, and there was no way he was going to let Harry's cherished one suffer if he could help.

"Are they simple potions, Harry?" George leaned over Ron's shoulder, waiting for an answer.

"Some are, some aren't." Harry shrugged. "But I know I can't brew them."

"But we can." George gestured towards himself, Ron, and Hermione.

"As can I." Molly's determined voice came from behind him, and everyone else agreed with her.

"Come on then. You can ask Snape what you can do. You can't come through this connection though, Snape has it only opened to me."

Ron rolled his eyes, but was glad that Snape was showing such care for Harry.

"Then we will go through the shop's floo and walk there." George waved Harry out of the flames. "We'll be there shortly."

Ron waited as the wives volunteered to stay home. The majority of the Weasley family were soon flooing out.

§§§§§

When Snape kept the trio together, Ron suppressed a smile. The man cared, he could see it now. He had suspected it because of the letters. He truly believed that the man was helping him because he was Harry's friend, and now he had proof.

Sure, he and Hermione were the main ones brewing along with Snape. Harry seemed to be regulated to clean up, but to Ron's eye, he was trusting Harry the most. Harry prepared the ingredients needed for his cauldrons, and when the man needed him to, Harry took over one of the cauldrons while Snape worked with another. Snape was trusting Harry to prepare the ingredients to his exacting standards and to understand the potions well enough to know what needed to be done, to be able to jump in and handle it.

As they worked through the night, Snape questioned them on the theories behind potion making and then technique as well as basic potion recipes. It didn't take Ron long to figure out the man was preparing them for their NEWTs by making them think while working in his lab. A quick glance at the others showed that they realized it as well.

The evening progressed into night and the questions branched into other topics as well.


	3. Bridging the Distance

 

“Mr Weasley, you should have returned yesterday.”

 

Amelia Ames, the flighty Potions Master, stared at Ron as he came through the door, his trunk in hand. Ron felt a frisson of fear shoot through him, surely this couldn’t end his dreams. He was returning an hour before the time that Healer Cotsworth told him.

 

“I should report this to Healer Kindle and let him decide what to do.” The woman spun about, preparing to walk back out the door she just entered. A voice from the stairwell stopped her.

 

“Healer Ames,” Jeremiah Cotsworth continued down the stairs and gestured for Ron to leave them. “I instructed Mr Weasley to come back today, and he did – an hour earlier than I told him.”

 

“He was supposed to be back yesterday!”

 

Ron could feel her glare digging into his back as he headed up the stairs.

 

“There was no reason for him to do so. I was the only Healer here – I was the only _human_ here. If he returned then, he would have been in my way. He was better off at home, celebrating the New Year with his family, than here where my celebrations might have caused him … distress.”

 

As Potions Master Ames humphed, Ron tried to suppress his curiosity – just how did Healer Cotsworth celebrate the beginning of the year – but it was hard to do after so many years of it being finely honed while being in Harry’s company. He bolted the rest of the way to his room, hoping the distance would help.

 

§§§§§

 

 

Doing his best to look like he was supposed to be there, Ron walked down the back hallway attempting to find a path to and from the classroom area that would not pass near any of the patient rooms which was where he normally got caught by random instructors and given impromptu lessons. Turning a corner, he scanned the new corridor for anybody and judged its general direction. As it seemed to be winding towards the classrooms, he struck down it after mentally noting the corridor he came out of. One time getting almost lost in the Ministry of Magic was enough to teach him to check his back trail just to be sure he would recognize it.

 

Near the end of the corridor, he heard voices, one of which he recognized instantly. Cotsworth was in one of the rooms, talking to a group of people, most of them Ron could identify as instructors at the school. As he stopped to figure out how he could pass unnoticed, his name caught his attention.

 

“Mr Weasley’s schedule is unacceptable.” Cotsworth’s voice was accompanied by the sound of parchment slapping a table. “How is he supposed to make sense of the material if he is being pulled from one level to the other like this?”

 

“He succeeded last term.” Ron recognized Healer Turk’s voice. He had listened to the man all last term discussing charms.

 

“You did this to the boy last term? No wonder he was attempting to study every waking moment.” Disgust and understanding were two out of the multitude of emotions that Ron heard in Cotsworth’s voice.

 

An unknown voice spoke up. “Honestly, he should have been fine. We put him in some of the lower level classes since he hadn’t taken his NEWTs.”

 

“You considered this a good thing? The two levels instruct not only at different speeds, but in different orders! Add to this that all the classes are intertwined … I am amazed that the boy didn’t break down last term, and I completely understand why he was skipping meals.”

 

“Master Kindle said he was to finish in two years...”

 

Cotsworth’s voice cut off the speaker. “Yes. He told the advanced instructors to pull the boy into patient rooms and start that part of his education, which we have.”

 

“I still don’t see what your problem is. The boy shall continue with the mix of low level and advanced level classes. He has succeeded so far.”

 

“And you will drive him away or into a breakdown. The classes get harder and more reliant on information learned in the other ones.” Parchment shuffled and Cotsworth continued. “Looking at his last term schedule, I am shocked that he did well in your potions class, Master Ames, as he was not scheduled for the support class all the others took.”

 

“He wasn’t?” The sound of a chair scraping across the floor and then footsteps of someone crossing the room came through the door. “That explains his scores at the beginning of the term. I wonder just how he figured it all out?”

 

Ron was shocked that there was a support class for Potions but not that they forgot to schedule him for them. _‘They would never believe how I figured it out, or if they did, they would prevent me from talking to Harry.’_

 

“Studying.” A sigh sounded before Cotsworth spoke again. “You cannot continue to schedule the boy like this. Put him in one group or the other.”

 

“And if we don’t?”

 

It took Ron a moment but he finally realized where he knew that voice from – it was Healer Armstrong from his acceptance interview.

 

“Then I shall offer to take him as my apprentice.” Cotsworth’s voice was as cold as Snape’s on a bad day, making Ron wonder just how mad the man was.

 

“Your apprentice?!” A hand smacked against the table as Armstrong’s voice echoed into the hallway. “You _would_ do that, wouldn’t you? All of our careful planning to get the boy through, and you would just yank him out of our control and into yours.”

 

“As you know, he would not be completely free of the … requirements set by Healer Kindle, but I would control his classes and be the main advanced instructor to train him.” Cotsworth still sounded cold. “So, yes, all your plans would be for naught.”

 

A snort sounded from someone. “Then see if he wants to. You can have the headache of getting him through in two years.”

 

“I will.”

 

Ron ducked into a side corridor as Cotsworth strode out of the room. Holding his breath and trying to be invisible, he waited until the man had gone before he slipped back out. Using all his sneaking training, wishing he had Harry’s invisibility cloak, he worked his way out of the back hallways and to his room.

 

He shut the door behind him and slumped down into his desk chair. One thought had kept him company the whole way back. Should he accept Cotsworth’s offer?

 

A knock brought Ron out of his musings. A quick glance about the room showed no incriminating books or letters were lying around before he called out. “Enter.”

 

Cotsworth opened the door slowly, propping it open before entering the room. “Mr Weasley, I have a proposal to make to you, if you are willing to listen.”

 

Ron glancing at the open door, wondering why it was like that, before he answered. “Is it about next term? Are you claiming all my waking hours not spent in classes?” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but the look on Cotsworth’s face said he failed. He knew what Cotsworth was there to talk about, but in pretending he didn’t, all his aggravation from last term came out.

 

The glare was wiped clean and a sigh followed as the Healer leaned against the wall next to the doorway. “Healer Kindle put you up to an almost impossible task, one that will require you to work very hard, harder than our most highly qualified student. To succeed in this you will have to set aside your idea of when you are to be taught and when you have downtime.”

 

Ron opened his mouth to scoff at the idea of downtime, but the man waved him silent.

 

“I have seen your schedule from last term and I can believe that the first day off you had was when I sent you home for Christmas. They are setting you up for another term like that, possibly worse. I’m here to offer you a proposal, one that should help a little bit. At the very least it will allow you to be in classes that work together and for a schedule to be hammered out about when you are working in the advanced units.”

 

Ron leaned back in his seat, disbelief evident on his face. He trusted Cotsworth about as much as he trusted Snape at Hogwarts. He knew the man had some sort of interest in him, but was still not sure it was in his best interest. He still couldn’t understand why he would wish to apprentice him. “And how can you do that?”

 

“I am willing to take you up as my apprentice. I shall schedule your classes as well as become the main advanced instructor that you work with.”

 

“Are you doing this because I am Ronald Weasley, the best mate of Harry Potter, secondary Saviour of the Wizarding World?”

 

This was the main thing that worried Ron about this proposal. What if the man was truly just after his name – to be able to say he trained Harry Potter’s best mate?

 

Green eyes narrowed before they rolled. “No, I am doing this because you have potential and a dream. Yes, part of it is because you are who you are – I owe … we owe you three a lot, but I am more concerned about the teen who wants to be a Healer and is not being taught correctly. I did my best last term to be the advanced trainer who instructed you ...”

 

His words trailed off, and Ron was positive it was due to the anger showing on his face. Last term was a large sore point between them.

 

“They didn’t explain how your schedule was going to be a nightmare for you.” Cotsworth ran a hand over his face before sighing heavily. “No wonder you seemed to resent the effort we were putting in. Made it easier for me to take over that section of your training, but...” He waved the rest of his words away.

 

Ron knew his face reflected his confusion. Those impromptu sessions were not so random? They were actually planned, and he was supposed to know about them?

 

“Mr Weasley, to get through this program in the time frame forced upon you, you are to take the standard year one and year two courses. Year three is the Advanced Training and Practice with patients. The accelerated international students typically complete the ATP earlier as they begin them in the summer. It was decided that you would participate in the ATP in the evenings when an instructor had time and a patient. Many believed that it was a waste of time, as you have not been taught the material that we expect our students to know. With the attitude you displayed, many have washed their hands of you, believing you ungrateful of their time. Now, I see that it was a lack of communication – you were never told, were you?”

 

Ron knew his eyes were wide and his jaw was slack. All his anger and resentment that had built up last term shifted its focus from the man in front of him to the people who explained his schedule last term. The people he could now see as wanting to take the practically impossible and turn it into truly impossible. Throttling it down into a simmering pool in his stomach, he shook his head and gave Cotsworth an apologetic look. “No. No one mentioned it. All I knew was that I could not walk anywhere without being pulled into helping here or there. I felt as if I was being ambushed at every turn. Even a trip to the loo was dangerous.”

 

The surprise on Cotsworth’s face assured Ron that the Healer had no clue just how much he was being pulled away from what he was doing.

 

“As my apprentice, I would be the main advanced instructor to train you, and we would create a schedule so that neither of our time is taken over. No more hall ambushes – you would meet with an assigned instructor at an assigned time in a designated place. As for your regular classes, I believe that the accelerated level should be fine, especially considering how well you did last term.”

 

Ron hoped his relief wasn’t as visible as he felt it was. It wouldn’t do well in this bargaining for him to give away how wonderful that sounded. George would be disappointed in him if he failed at bargaining. The look on Cotsworth face had him believing that George would be disappointed.

 

“Also, I believe that this past week off has done you good. You should _not_ be kept prisoner here, but that is one of the things I cannot change. However, I can allow you to have one visitor a month provided they are discreet and willing to be under the watchful eye of myself or an appointed person.” Cotsworth studied him a bit before continuing. “As your master, I will be more hands on with your education. I will be privy to all the details of your classwork, and the instructors will inform me of anything they think is pertinent information. Are you willing? If not, I can assure you that your classes are about to get much harder to understand.”

 

Ron nodded slowly while mentally debating who should be his visitor and if he could alternate between two persons. “I’m willing.”

 

§§§§§

 

 

Sinking on to his chair, Ron pulled a piece of parchment closer along with his quill and inkwell. The past two weeks had been busy, but even so, it was far better than last term. Cotsworth had held true to his promise of honouring time.

 

_Harry,_

 

_Hi mate! I am glad you think that it was a good choice to apprentice with Cotsworth. It is even funnier to me that Severus thinks it is a good idea. Does he know Cotsworth from somewhere? Speaking of Severus, thank him for me, please. His last minute present has come in handy already. Research is much easier, and it is definitely helpful in the Advanced Training Program._

 

Shifting his eyes, Ron glanced at the book with a nondescript worn brown cover placed on the shelf next to his desk within easy reaching distance. It was right next to his “Snape’s Potions Lecture Journal”. He had stopped by The Dungeon to tell Harry goodbye before he headed back to St Thaddeus on New Year’s, when Severus came down the stairwell carrying the book. The man had handed it to him, telling him it was a spare copy and that it might do him some good. As usual, the Potions Master was right.

 

Pulling the book off the shelf, Ron grinned at the title – _The Infirmary Survival Guide by Poppy Pomfrey_. The forward in the book was basically a note telling whomever was watching the Infirmary for whatever reason that this was their first tool to use before calling St Mungo’s for help. Flipping it open, he scanned the table of contents. It was a list of symptoms. You touched the most prominent symptom and the book would flip over to another chart, where you chose another symptom. It continued on this path until you ended up at what was wrong with the patient, and then you were told the potion, charm, or any other treatment plan needed. The book contained the normal illnesses as well as treatments for messed or mixed up versions of hexes, charms, potions, and herbological or creature induced problems. There were also editorial comments as well. Ron never knew Madam Pomfrey had a sense of humour, but she obviously did. The comment on dragon bites referenced him and how he should have known better since Charlie was his brother.

 

Closing the book, he rested a hand on top of the cover. Cotsworth was amazed how much he knew about treating things and was attempting to learn how he was doing it. Ron was scared that if the man knew he would take both this book and Severus’ notes from him. He was not as scared of that as he was at the beginning of the term, but it was still there. He might show it to the man when summer came though.

 

Picking up his quill, he continued his letter.

 

_There are a number of potions in it that I don’t know how to brew, does he know if I am going to learn them or would I order them from a Potions Master? Can he send the instructions just in case? Is he willing to help me with Potions still? If not, I think I will be fine this time. The Potions Support class is good. It has a different instructor – this one is not so flighty. They are not as clear as the Snarky Prince though. He can really break a potion into simple words when he t_ _ries._ Of course he is also capable of making it completely above my head as well. I am hoping for the former, not the latter.

 

_As for visitors, I have asked Cotsworth, but I can onl_ _y have one person visiting. Sorry mate, but it is going to be Hermione. I would love to see you, but … she is … You understand, I know._

 

Smiling slightly, he knew Harry would understand more than most. Making tough choices is something his best mate was a professional at. With a slight nod, Ron finished his letter, describing his days and what he was learning now. As he closed it up, he included his notes for Potions for Severus just in case the man agreed to continue his lessons.

 

§§§§§

 

 

Ron felt the disapproving glares from several of the instructors as he walked to the small room set aside for his monthly visit. He didn’t know exactly what Cotsworth went through to allow them to happen, but he could easily tell that they others weren’t happy. He, on the other hand, felt like a prisoner getting a moment’s reprieve. Sure, he was making friends with the international students, but there was a … gulf between them, one he had no idea how to remove. He had a feeling it was due to his apprentice status, but couldn’t prove it. _‘It still wouldn’t change how I feel about these visits. It is Hermione!’_ Even thinking her name caused his heart to sing.

 

Smiling, he slipped into the room. In the far corner, sitting behind an imposing desk with his nose buried in books and charts was Cotsworth.

 

“Sir.” Ron nodded to the man who barely acknowledged his presence with a wave and a flip of his wand, putting up a privacy barrier – one that Ron had learned to put around a patient’s bed to keep anyone else from hearing what was being discussed there. Hermione came through the door just as soon as the barrier was locked in place.

 

Staring at her, Ron felt his heart speeding up, and a smile – a goofy sappy smile – filled his face.

 

“Hermione.” Her name was said on a soft breath.

 

“Ron,” Hermione’s smile was broad and her eyes were happy.

 

Ron shot a quick look at Cotsworth and seeing his head still tilted down, rushed over to Hermione as the door closed behind her. Pulling her into his arms, he hugged her tight. “I’ve missed you.”

 

Pulling back slightly, she shot a look at Cotsworth before she spoke. “We’ve company.”

 

Ron quirked a grin and pulled her over to a sofa, which was turned so its back was towards the desk. “That’s Healer Cotsworth. He cast a privacy spell.”

 

Hermione grinned back before pulling out her wand. “ _Muffliato.”_ Sliding her wand away, she snuggled into him. “There, now we are positive he can’t hear us.”

 

Ron shook his head, but didn’t complain. It never hurt to have more protection. “You’ve trimmed your hair.”

 

Her laughter was happy and her face brightened.

 

“Yes, I know it isn’t much shorter, but those couple of inches were getting in my way, and bundling it up all the time was getting tiresome.”

 

Running his fingers through it, Ron nodded. “It looks good on you.”

 

Brown eyes brimmed over with warmth, and Ron found himself lost in them, barely hearing her thank you. That was how the rest of the visit went. They talked about everything they could think of, snuggled up on the sofa.

 

When she finally left, he barely felt the sofa sink as he stared at the closed door. Part of him wanted to run after her and kiss her, to stay with her, but he knew it couldn’t be. He wanted to finish what he began, and that meant staying here, following their rules.

 

“She is your other half, isn’t she?” Cotsworth’s voice pulled him out of his dazed state.

 

Ron turned his gaze away from the door to look at his Master. “Yeah, she is. I had to pick one, and Harry understood. He actually told me...” he trailed off, stopping his babbling.

 

“Can you survive seeing her only once a month?”

 

There was something in Cotsworth’s tone that perked up Ron’s interest – his curiosity taking notice once again. “I can. We made it through last term.”

 

Pale green eyes studied him, searching for who knew what, before the man nodded. “If it gets too hard, let me know. I will work out some way for the two of you to be together. One’s heart should not be kept separate from the body too long, both suffer.”

 

Standing slowly, the Healer smiled, covering the pain Ron spotted flitting over his face seconds before. “We should leave these parts, Mr Weasley, neither of us are very welcome here.”

 

§§§§§

 

_Ron, you w_ _on’t believe what happened! Mate, we went on a date. Well, it wasn’t really a date, neither of us called it that, but we went out to dinner. Yeah – don’t call it a date, that’ll get my hopes up. Any rate, we went out for curry and then the grocer.  
_

_The curry was at that place I took you to while you were free. He loved it! Not that he said that. No, it was ‘acceptable’,_ _but h_ _e cleaned his dishes of everything. He ate the fish curry and I had chicken curry. I think I will have to try the fish next time, he looked like he was enjoying it that much._

 

_Grocery shopping with him is much like ingredient shopping. He is picky! I thought Aunt Petunia was, but no, Severus takes the cake. Just the right scent, just the right colour, just the right amount of marbling in the meat … I learned a lot about food tonight._

 

_And we talked – and not one mention of potions. Helped to be in a muggle place. We talked music, colours, architecture, books, and all sorts of things. I learned so much about him. I am glad I got the nerve up to ask him to go out. I was positive he was going to refuse me for a moment –_ _he actually,_ _mentioned he could cook for himself. Luckily I knew that his pantry was bare. That is why we went to the grocer afterwards._

 

Ron laughed. Harry and Severus were finally moving forward. Soon, those two will accept what was obvious to him. They were made for each other, just as much as Hermione and he were. Reading to the end of the letter, he picked up the thick folded stack of parchments from Severus. It was the next instalment of _Teaching the Dunderhead how to Brew_. Maybe he should really make them into a book.

 

 

 

§§§§§

 

_Hermoine,_

 

_Mum would appreciate us letting her handle the wedding plans, but I think we should put together as much as we can. I remember the chaos that surrounded Bill and Fleur’s wedding. I don’t want to endure that again, so if we start now and have it all basically figured out, Mum will have an easier time._  
  
My guest list right now is of course my family. I want Harry as my best man, so Severus has to be on the list. 

 

He stopped for a moment, wondering if Hermione even knew about Harry and Severus. Harry’s last letter had hinted that things were getting along even better between them. They had gone out for dinner again, this time at Severus’ insistence. Neither was calling them dates, but Ron could tell they were. Both were being cautious. Deciding to leave it in, knowing if Hermions didn’t know she would ask, he continued.

 

_Of the Healers I am working with now, Cotsworth is the only one that I would think of inviting. I get along with the others well enough, but … I don’t know. There is something about Cotsworth that I like. He reminds me a bit of Severus and a bit of Dumbledore. I still haven’t figured out what is going on with him – how does he know what it feels like to be separated from someone he loves? Surely as an instructor he could have his spouse here._

 

_Back to the list. Neville, Seamus, and Dean. Luna as well._

 

_How big do you want this to be? I was thinking close friends and family. Who do you want to invite?  
_

_Colours and flowers – Mum is going to insist we decide those as well, might as well get it over with. How about dark gold and navy blue? I’ll wear blue and you can wear gold. It’ll look good on you, especially trimmed with a fine lace._

 

Tapping his quill lightly on the parchment, he thought for a moment before shrugging.

 

_I have no clue on the flowers though. Your opinion?_

 

Smiling, he knew that his question would spawn a long letter, but that was fine by him.

 

§§§§§

 

Ron watched as the last of the local students and a majority of the international ones left for a two week holiday. There was only a small group of instructors remaining at St Thaddeus, and Ron wasn’t positive just what he was supposed to do. There were no formal classes and Cotsworth had not given him a schedule of extra classes. Part of him hoped to start his second year quickly, another part wanted to go home. A knock sounded on his door.

 

“Enter.”

 

Cotsworth propped his door open once again before he entered, a habit that Ron still had no clue why he did – none of the other instructors did it.

 

“Mr Weasley,” A smile crossed the Healer’s face at the resigned expression on his. “What do you wish to focus on as your area of speciality?”

 

Ron blinked before answering. “I want... I want to be a general Healer. One who is living in the communities – not one that works at St Mungo’s.”

 

The Healer stared at him as if an answer was in his face. Resolve settled on the man’s face as he entered the room and shut the door behind him. “I am going home for the two week break and I do not wish to leave you to the … mercies of the ones remaining. For some reason Anderson holds you in distaste or disdain. But, before you can agree to travel with me – which you can do as I am your master as long as I can prove you are learning while we are gone – I have to make sure you understand what you are getting yourself into.” The green eyes looked worried for a moment and then the resolve was back as Cotsworth cast a privacy spell over the door.

 

Ron cast the Prince’s muffling spell – earning a surprised look from Cotsworth. “You can take down the privacy spell. You are obviously worried about being in a room alone with me, and that spell will make things even more suspicious. With this one, they just can’t hear what we are saying.”

 

With compressed lips, Cotsworth dropped the privacy spell. “You will be staying at my house if you travel with me. Not one of the Healers here are willing to do so, nor are many other people once they know what my spouse is.”

 

“A werewolf?” Ron searched the man’s face, thinking back to the conversation right after the New Year.

 

Cotsworth shook his head. “No, a vampire.” He waited a moment for it to sink in before he continued. “You don’t need to come if you are afraid. I will not subject her to anyone who is afraid of her.”

 

Ron stared at him, his mind whirling as so many things started to make sense. Little things like the bottles of blood he had seen the man post out, the way the other Healers watched him when he came back from extended trips home, though those were rare. Setting those thoughts aside, he tried to decide how he felt and only came up with relief. His curiosity was assuaged. “Are you bonded?”

 

Green eyes widened in surprise. “Not many think to ask that.”

 

“Not many have Hermione Granger helping you study for your NEWTs. Trust me – she was very through.”

 

“Yes, we are.” Cotsworth leaned against the door, his expression was wary.

 

Ron studied him before nodding. “I don’t mind coming then. What I don’t understand is why the other Healers are worried – she is the one you miss here, your heart? I mean, since you are bonded they are not in any danger. Nobody is.”

 

“They still don’t trust her, or me for that matter. At least not when I first come back, they have to watch me for weeks before they do.”

  
Shaking his head, Ron sighed. “When do you want to leave?”

 

“Today, as soon as you can pack.”

 

Noting the eagerness in the man’s expression, Ron grinned. “Give me about ten minutes then. I’ll meet you ...”

 

“Right here. I’ll portkey us to where we are going.” Cotsworth pulled the door open and rushed out.

 

Pulling the Surviving the Infirmary and Teaching the Dunderhead how to Brew off his shelf, Ron tucked them into his trunk along with rest of what he felt he needed to take. Cotsworth shared with him a secret that he knew never to share, he was positive the man wouldn’t share these.

 

§§§§§

 

Ron sank on the bed, smiling as broadly as his lips would allow. Harry’s letter dangled from his fingers but the words still ran through his mind. He didn’t need to see them to know them.

 

_Mate! Severus and I … we’re a couple now. I can’t believe it. We were talking about sales and the books, and then he was trying to get me to leave the store. To follow my dreams according to him. Well, I had to tell him that my only t_ _rue desire was to stay with him. I was scared. But... he said he cherished me as well. I was shocked – even more so when he asked to go out to dinner as our first official date. He said he was impressed with me. Me, Ron. Impressed - how many things impress Severus? Not many, not in a good way, and this was a good way – his face said so._

 

_I just had to tell you. Thank you for being there for me through all of this, Ron. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there to cheer me on. Now, I can’t screw this up._

 

Pulling out parchment, Ron proceeded to tell his best mate that he wouldn’t screw it up.

 

§§§§§

 

 

The next year passed fairly quickly. Since Healer Kindle would not approve him being off during the next Christmas break, Ron made sure to confine himself to his room when Cotsworth’s wife came for the holiday. He did take the time to greet her before she left, but knew far better than to approach her when she first came. Even bonded, she might attack him considering how long she was away from her spouse.

 

This summer, after the two weeks of travel work with Cotsworth, he was being sent to St Mungo’s as an intern. He had succeeded where many thought he would fail. With Cotsworth’s help, he only took two years to complete St Thaddeus’ program.

 

Grinning slightly, he touched the two books that had helped him out the most. One was the Pomfrey’s survival guide – Cotsworth had been amazed and pleased with the book. The other was his compilationof Severus’ potions notes. It was actually two books – one for the school syllabus i.e. NEWT level and below, and the other was for the Healer specific potions. Hermione had given him a typewriter so he could type the man’s notes up. Once that was done he had organized them in some semblance of an order, created a table of contents similar to Pomfrey’s book – you touched the potion’s name or characteristic and it took you to it, and then bound them with two leather journal covers. He was considering making a copy of it – Cotsworth really like them. _‘Too bad the Gemini spell doesn’t work on books – for some reason it doesn’t copy the words inside the covers.’_

 

Setting the books down on his desk inside his new room – once again he was being confined to the building, in this case it was St Mungo’s – he moved his trunk near the bed. It was time to head out and meet the Healers he was working with.

 

§§§§§

 

 

 

Ron ran a hand through his hair as he left Harry in the garden. He spotted Severus as he was leaving and something about the man’s expression said that he had heard the right part of their conversation. Hopefully this Christmas was going to have a wonderful announcement on that front. Mum and Dad would be over the moon.

 

Chuckling to himself, he knew they both already were over the moon. Mum was pleased as punch that he was taking over Healer Smith’s practice and would be settling nearby. She was even more pleased he was home for this Christmas. When he came through the floo this morning, he was greeted with an almost bone breaking hug. She was the first person he had seen since his release from St Mungo’s and he was happy about that. Dad came in not long after her and they had a wonderful morning together before everyone else came home.

 

He shook the memory from his mind as he walked through the front door. He stopped short as the door closed behind him. “Uncle Bart? Aunt Sarah?”

 

“Ah! There’s my hero of a nephew!” Bartholomew Pussett crossed the room, pulling Ron into a tight hug before he could take offence to the name.

 

“Hero?” His voice was muffled in the blond’s shoulder.

 

“Certainly, you succeeded in completing a gruelling Healer’s training program in record time – definitely a hero.” Bart let him go, beaming at him as he did so.

 

Sarah hugged him, not giving him time to breathe. “You also helped Harry Potter defeat You-Know-Who! Of course you are a hero, Ron.”

 

Ron worked loose from her grip and met Hermione’s gaze over his aunt’s head. He could see his worry reflected in her eyes. Harry was not going to appreciate the fawning when he came in.

 

§§§§§

 

Bart caught on the moment Ron asked ‘hero’ while stiffening in his hug. The boy didn’t want to be known for his part in saving their world. He quickly thought of a different reason for calling him that, glad that Arthur had told him about the Healer training. It was one of the reasons he was here this year, he wanted to celebrate Ron’s success with the rest of them. ‘ _That program might be the reason he resents being a Hero of the Wizarding World. Arthur say they locked him up during it because he was one of the heroes.’_

 

Pulling Ron back against his chest, a smile curled his lips. The youngest man of the family had grown up. He could remember how Ron had wanted to be known for anything, any claim to being different, for being good at something. _‘Now he wants to be known for his work, his choices – not just the path life forced him down, but for the ones he chose to work hard for. One he could have quit if he wanted without disastrous results.’_

 

Letting the young man go, his smile at Sarah’s quick hug fought with a frown as he heard what she said. The look between the boy and the girl who had to be Hermione Granger confirmed his fear. The war heroism was not to be broached. The look also brought to mind how Molly and Arthur used to be at school. _‘I need to be planning to come back for a wedding sometime. The media are going to be all over it.’_

 

When Sarah let Ron go, he gently pulled her back towards a quiet area to warn her to tone down her fawning behaviour, but the front door opened again before he could say a thing.

 

“Harry Potter!” Sarah rushed forward, her tone gushing with excitement. Bart cringed inwardly. He knew his wife was a fan – one of the worst out there if what he had seen at the Dragon reserve was to be trusted. The way the green eyed man backed up made him move forward, attempting to block Sarah from getting any closer. A man in a black cloak did that instead, swooping around the Boy-Who-Lived. Dread settled low in his abdomen as he recognized Severus Snape. If Sarah was crazy over anything dealing with Potter, she was just as fanatical about destroying anything dealing with Snape.

 

“Snape.”

 

The word came out as a growl from his wife. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Arthur’s expression, one that was being mirrored by his sons. Moving quickly, he shot a quelling look at Sarah, stopping her from continuing, and then he moved forward. He had to attempt to salvage this, and then he and Sarah were going to have a talk. He just hoped his friendship with Arthur survived this meeting.

 

Stepping forward, he offered his hand to Snape. “Master Snape, it is a pleasure for me to meet you. I am Bartholomew Pussett, and I am very grateful for all that you did during the war. The messages and warning that you sent out.” He waved the denials he could see on the man’s face away with the hand that was not still being unaccepted. “I have enough connections that I know who the warnings were coming from. It made my life easier – I didn’t have to deny my family by refusing to accept the Dark Lord.”

 

His offered hand was finally clasped in a warm handshake.

 

“They were not sent out just to you.” Severus’ dark eyes searched the green eyes, ones that were darker than Harry’s, before releasing the hand.

 

“I know, and that made it even better. You were taking care of all of us who were trying to escape. Letting us know when the recruiters were on their way.” Bart could feel the astonishment roiling off of Sarah, he had never told her about this as he knew she would never had listened the moment she heard Snape’s name. “I doubt anyone else learned who the informant was.”

 

Turning slightly, he held a hand out to Potter. “Just this once, let me say thank you, and I swear it will be the end of it. I have waited for years to do so and had never expected to be able to.”

 

“You didn’t know I was going to be here?”

 

Bart smiled slightly and shook his hand. “No, I was coming to congratulate Ron on succeeding in getting his mastery.”

 

He watched as Potter blinked, letting go of the clasped hand as Snape glared at him.

 

“You … you are Uncle Bart, aren’t you? The one with the story of how Molly and Arthur got together?”

 

Laughing, Bart stepped back, wrapping his arm around Sarah, keeping her from moving forward. “Yes, yes I am. If you will excuse me, I need to check on the dish I am making for dinner.”

 

A slight nod to both men, he pulled Sarah into the kitchen, sealing the door behind them.

 

Sarah spun out of his grasp, her brown eyes glowing in anger. “How can you thank him?! He killed Dumbledore! He was a Death Eater! No matter what has been said – Snape is not a good person.”

 

“I said it because it is true. Now, no matter what you think of either of those two, or anyone else here, we are guests. They are family here.” He had noticed the tensing of Arthur’s shoulders the moment Sarah spoke Snape’s name. Severus was going to be protected. He still remembered the feel of rough stone against his back and an angry Arthur in his face. He also remembered just how lethal the man could be when he was being protective. It was not an experience he wished to see again.

 

“And as they are family, you are going to speak nicely to them, you are not going to mention the war, you are not going to fawn over them or rake them over the coals. If you don’t think you can abide by this, we shall thank Arthur and Molly for the offer of dinner and a roof before we leave.” His eyes hardened at the defiance in her face. “I categorically refuse for you to destroy my friendship with Arthur over this.”

 

“How? How can Arthur and Molly stomach having that man here? Harry Potter I can understand – from their letters he has been a friend of Ron’s for years, has even spent the summers here with them – but Snape?”

 

“It doesn’t matter.” Bart sighed at the disbelief in her face. “Oh, I am curious, but it doesn’t change that it doesn’t matter. What matters is that he is welcomed and accepted here. Now, are we going or staying?”

 

He could see the debate in her face. She wanted to stay to see Potter, Granger, and Ron so she could brag later, but she didn’t want to associate with Snape.

 

“Fine, we’ll stay and I will keep my tongue, no matter how much he deserves it.”

  
“You will also not gush over Potter, Ron, or Granger.”

 

She frowned heavily and then spat out, “Fine.”

 

Giving her a quick kiss, Bart checked on his tart before unsealing the door. They walked back into the front room with Bart meeting Arthur’s gaze and giving a miniscule nod. His friend’s shoulders relaxed.

 

Turning his attention to the rest of the room, Bart spotted Molly gushing over the ring on Potter’s finger. Her smile at Snape told him exactly how important the man was to this family. Moving near Sarah, he was prepared to silence her by any method necessary. He wasn’t above kissing her senseless in front of a group of people he considered family – and that is what all of them were to him, just that some were still new relatives.

 

§§§§§

 

 

Ron watched as Uncle Bart and Aunt Sarah settled down. He had been very afraid of Aunt Sarah hero worshipping Harry, but so far she was quiet on that front. She spent a lot of time talking to his siblings while casting furtive looks at Harry and Severus. Severus was just letting them roll off while Harry was moving closer and closer to Severus.

 

Shaking his head, Ron spoke up. “Who is up for Quidditch before dinner?”

 

“Can we fly on those brooms Hermione insisted on bringing? We can test them out.” Harry turned an expectant eye towards Hermione.

 

Laughing she nodded. “Have fun – it will be a great test. I’ll come along to take notes. Are you coming, Severus?”

 

“I think I will stay here, George had something he wanted to talk to me about.”

 

George frowned. “But I was going to join in. Those brooms sound awesome!”

 

Severus waved them towards the door. “Go on then, we can talk later.”

 

Ron grinned. “Come on, Severus. You can referee. We all know you will be biased and unfair to those you dislike, but, hey – it will still work out to my advantage since Harry is going to be on my team.”

 

The slightly self-conscious glare he received caused him to laugh, guessing that Severus would rather not watch the game in case he was caught ogling Harry and be subjected to more teasing from the Weasleys.

 

Winking at Harry, Ron decided despite the potential problem of Aunt Sarah, life was very good to him right now. He was at home with his family, his girlfriend and his best mate. What more could he ask for?

 

 


	4. Working Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait - I had a change of eye sight help that didn't help. They were changed again, and I can see comfortably! It is amazing how nice seeing without pain/eyestrain is. 
> 
> As always, thanks to YenGirl for her quick beta-ing.

Ron stood on the edge of the walkway, waiting for Severus to join him. He distinctly remembered how he had ended up in this position. It was near the end of his internship with St Mungo's – they had granted permission for him to study with Healer Cotsworth while Ron was visiting his home.

Jeremiah Cotsworth was raving about Pomfrey's book and Severus' notes and Ron had suggested copying at least the notes for him. Miriam Cotsworth, who he learned later was the chief editor and partial owner of Edgewater Publishing, had stormed into the room at that moment, her red-brown eyes glowing with fury. Ron learned that copying someone's words without their permission was not going to happen. In the end, he succeeded in convincing her he wanted to give a publishing deal to Severus as a Christmas present. Miriam had looked through the journals and requested to see Severus about publishing them. To this day, he thinks that is the only thing that saved him that day.

It was also what had him standing at the end of the walkway leading to the Cotsworth's house at dusk in the middle of February.

The brisk tap of footsteps pulled him out of his thoughts. "Severus, over here!" Ron waved the Potions Master towards the path.

"Ronald." Severus nodded in greeting.

"Come on, Miriam is waiting." Ron headed for the house, positive the vampire would be up now. Knocking on the door, he wished he had permission to warn Severus what she was, but he didn't. Even so, he was fairly certain the man will have it figured out before they left.

Jeremiah opened the door. "Welcome to my home, Mr Snape." He stepped back to give them room to walk in. "Ron, Miriam is in the parlour. I'll get the tea if you will please escort Mr Snape there."

"Of course." Ron flashed the Healer a smile before signalling Severus to follow him. Just a few steps later he entered the front parlour and called out a greeting. "Miriam, we are here. Jeremiah went to get the tea."

The vampire crossed the room and hugged him gently. "Thank you, Ron."

Returning the hug, he let her go and turned towards the wary looking Potions Master. "Severus, this is Miriam Cotsworth."

The wariness vanished from the thin face and Severus nodded. "Mrs Cotsworth, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Mr Snape, the pleasure is all mine – or will be if you allow my company to publish your work." Miriam gestured towards the sitting area before settling in the wing backed chair near the fireplace. "Has Ron informed you of my offer?"

Ron nodded as they both sat on the sofa. "Yes, I did. I also showed him the way I put his notes together."

Severus' hands rested on his lap, his eyes taking in the room before returning to Miriam. "I am not willing to have them published as they are. If this work is going out to the public with my name on it, then it needs to be more than just polished."

Miriam leaned forward, her eyes bright. "What changes would you make?"

Jeremiah's entrance with the tea service halted the conversation until everyone was served.

With a fine bone china teacup of Earl Grey and a plate of shortbread biscuits at his elbow, Severus answered her. "The information was written for someone who had seen the potions once, who had sat through the lessons before. I like how Ronald divided the potions up, but inside each potions section I would start off with a basic walkthrough on how to brew it, and then follow up with the intricate details that a serious student or brewer would need to know. There should also be a section – an appendix – on proper preparation techniques with illustration."

"Maybe one on equipment as well?"

Ron sipped his tea, waiting to see what Severus would say to Jeremiah's question.

"If you think it would be helpful."

Ron quirked a partial smile as he spoke. "Your comments throughout your notes helped me. There was a number of things not mentioned in our potions book that helped me understand why Neville had issues and not just because of the ingredients."

Dark eyes contemplated him before Severus nodded slowly. "Then I can write up an appendix on equipment and care as well." He turned his attention back towards Miriam as he continued. "I would also request the books be divided by levels, OWL years and then another for NEWT years."

Miriam leaned back in her seat, a look of contemplation covering her face. "How about the healer's potions? My husband was most interested in that set of notes."

Severus frowned as he studied them. Ron remembered his complaints about the possibility of those being published and was positive he was about to hear them again.

"Madam, I taught Potions at Hogwarts for many years – many of those dunderheads would try to make them only to blow up their lab, or kill themselves or the person they were attempting to heal." Severus set his cup onto the small table in front of them, his gaze resting on her.

"We can regulate the purchasing of the books to those who are qualified to use them. I know that there will be some who will get them and try what you fear, but it would be a great help to the students at St Thaddeus." Miriam glanced between Jeremiah and Severus.

Ron jumped in. "Maybe it can be a limited print." He caught Severus' eye before he continued. "Or maybe you can write it to a level that only healers-in-training and actual healers would attempt it. Them and maybe a potions master."

The narrowing of Severus' eyes showed that his suggestion had fallen on fertile ground. Ron knew good and well that the Potions Master could easily write the notes so only a select few would dare attempt to use them.

"That would defeat the purpose." Jeremiah jumped in causing Severus to look at him. "I want something that can help our students, just like you helped Ron here. Making it overly complex would not achieve that."

Miriam's soft soprano slipped into the conversation. "How about we figure that out later? We shall write up the contract for the first two books, see how they are received and then move forward."

As Severus nodded, Ron gave a soft sigh of relief.

§§§§§§

Bryan McAron folded his hands on his desk as he watched the man on the other side. Severus Snape was his hero, more than Harry Potter ever was. Potter just saved the world, Snape had saved not only him personally, but his family and friends as well. He had defeated the monsters that stalked Bryan's childhood – hunger, cold, and ignorance. Growing up in the Barrel was not the best life, but it was a sight better than other slums all because of this man. Snape provided basic food staples – not the fancy things others thought they would want – grains, vegetables, beans, and dried meats were given in small quantities, but given nonetheless. Cold was combatted with clothes, firewood, and blankets – not the newest clothes or blankets, but warmth was never mocked at in the dead of winter. Ignorance was defeated with quills, scraped used parchment, almost worn-out books while at home, and then access to clean, neat almost new robes, books, and supplies while at Hogwarts along with an ear. The children of the Barrel, no matter which House they went into, were always guaranteed a councillor who knew how to talk to them. Snape didn't sugar coat things, he didn't dress it up in fine linens. No, he laid it out like it was and made sure you understood just what you needed to do to get to where you needed to. _'Of course you had to understand what he was saying – he was never a blunt as a Gryffindor.'_

"Mr Snape, what can I do for you today?" Bryan let a small smile slip across his face – this man had more power than many people thought. The old inhabitants of the Barrel – the ones who had broken through the barriers and entered positions of minor power and importance, places far higher than they had ever dreamed they could reach – all were willing to help him. He himself sat here behind a desk deep in the bowels of the Ministry all because of him, and he knew of at least twenty others that worked in the building.

"I wish to be married." Snape's answer didn't surprise Bryan, his grandfather had kept him abreast of the relationship of Potter and Snape. He and his fellow Ministry workers were part of the 'calming the hype over Potter' team.

Flipping his calendar open, he picked up a quill. "When, sir?"

He wanted to say it was an honour that Snape chose him out of all the officials who were licensed to bond and marry couple, but after working with and under this man he knew better.

"This coming February fourteenth."

Bryan felt his gut tremble as he flipped the parchment pages over to the right month and day. February fourteenth, Valentine's Day, was the most popular wedding date in the Wizarding world. It was so popular that in the eighteenth century the Archbishop of Canterbury had granted all marriages on that date had the rights of a special license. They could happen any place at any time as long as all of the other legalities were handled. That was a relief to the ones officiating the celebrations as there was no way to marry everyone between the hours of eight in the morning and noon in the seventeen hundreds or even six in the evening nowadays.

Everyone who was anyone wanted to be married on that date. Not only was it the day that celebrated romantic love, it was also a date that was magically strong. The fourteenth day of the second month. Centuries ago, not long after it was made Valentine's Day, Clarence Newsgood, a numerologist, wrote a treatise explaining how this date's numbers divided down to the number seven – a magically strong number. The treatise also pulled in a number of other specialist from the fields of History, Runes, and Divination to add more evidence to his proposal of the strength of the day. Any marriage, oath, or promise made on that date supposedly holds more power than if they were made any other time of the year.

"I have no open time on that day, sir." He looked up from his filled calendar, his sorrow written across his face.

The twist of the thin lips made him look back at the pages only to see that even lunch and dinner were blocked in for a ceremony. He would not make it home until eleven-thirty that evening.

"How about at three minutes after midnight?" The black eyes that studied him held a quiet mirth as Bryan listened to his question.

"The Ministry isn't open at that time." Bryan paused as Snape nodded and then continued. "Would you consider..." He stiffened his shoulders slightly,trying to garner the courage to ask. "… consider having the ceremony at my place? From what Grandda say, your intended doesn't care for crowds or press. I suspect he would only be inviting his family. I can magically enlarge the parlour; Da, Ma, and the family would be willing to decorate, I'm sure. The dining room can be made into a robing room. Then we can start just after midnight, and if we use the short version, you can be bonded at seven minutes afterwards."

He held off mentioning that he could then head up to bed, crash, and be at the Ministry by six to start his official day.

"Thank you, Bryan." Satisfaction glowed in those hooded dark eyes, and a true smile graced his face. "I appreciate you opening your house to me. We shall be there by eleven thirty, is that acceptable?"

"Yes." Bryan didn't bother to write it on his calendar, he knew as Snape left his office, he would call his wife, Bethany, to let her know. "Now, do you wish to post the banns or obtain a license?"

Snape set a packet of paperwork and a handful of galleons on the desk. "A license."

§§§§§§

Severus shut his door behind Marcus McAron and headed for bed. He was going to catch a quick nap before heading back over to Bryan's house now that the basic transfigurations were done, final ideas were given, and the last question was clarified.

At eleven o'clock Harry was there, looking anxious but happy, along with the rest of the Weasley family. Minerva had agreed to let members of the faculty out of Hogwarts as as long as they were back at a reasonable time, so they were there as well. Severus refused to think of the fact that the school was only being watched by ghosts, elves, portraits, and one poltergeist. "Bryan has opened his floo to us. When we arrive, please listen to all the directions given by his family. The address is 'Baron's barrel'."

Tossing floo powder into his fireplace, he went through first, knowing Harry would make sure everyone got through from the other end.

"Snape!" Marcus McAron grinned at him. His clothes were still worn, but they were not to the point of scruffiness, and they were clean.

"McAron," Severus nodded a greeting. "The others are coming through now."

"I'll watch fer them, yer to go in there and get ready." McAron waved him towards the far door.

After a moment, Severus heard Harry enter the same room, but the McAron family had succeeded in dividing it into two separate sides so neither could see the other. Running a hand down the rich blue robes, Severus stepped out of the room at one till midnight. An opaque barrier appeared beside him, so he knew that Harry was on the other side. The barrier dropped the moment they entered the magically enlarged parlour. Against the far wall was an arch of flowers – mainly roses with carnations, pansies, baby's breath, and others he had noticed Harry liked woven together – over the spot where they would speak their vows. The perfume from them was wafting over the rows of chairs arranged in a curve before the arch. They were all transfigured to look alike and be comfortable. Blue cloth, the same colour as his robe, draped the back of the chairs on one side in which sat the faculty of Hogwarts and a number of prominent Barrel patriarchs and matriarchs. Burnt sienna graced the ones on the other side that sat the Weasleys and Hermione Granger along with a few other of Harry's friends – the colour matched the robe Harry was wearing.

A quick glance up showed the candles floating in the air, lighting the room. Severus was grateful that Filius taught him the charm to keep the hot wax from dripping on people. The soft light added just the right atmosphere to the ceremony – the room was a pool of light amidst the inky darkness pressing in through the windows.

Bryon gestured them to walk forward just as the clock struck midnight. Walking forward side by side, they stopped under the arch and turned slightly so family and friends could see them.

"We are gathered this evening to join Severus Snape and Harry Potter in matrimony." Bryon smiled at the happiness in both of the men's faces, happiness that was reflected in all guests' expressions as well. "Please join hands."

Severus gently clasped Harry's hand in his and basked in the smile cast his way. Turning his gaze back to Bryan, he waited.

"Severus Snape, do you promise to love, cherish, and protect Harry throughout your life? Through sickness, through health, through good times and bad, no matter what comes?"

"I do." Severus had considered writing special vows but after the five months of pondering over the exact words to tell how he felt, what he wished, and his reasons for wishing to be bonded with Harry, he gave up. The words would not come, at least not easily. Luckily Harry didn't seem to mind using the standard vows – or the at least the ones Bryan decided to use.

Bryan turned to face Harry.

"Harry Potter, do you promise to love, cherish, and protect Severus throughout your life? Through sickness, through health, through good times and bad, no matter what comes?"

Harry's smile grew even larger as he nodded. "I do."

"Then I pronounce you wed." Bryan's wand rested against their clasped hands and a silver thread circled them before fading into gold. "And bonded. If you have rings to exchange, you may do so now."

As they slipped a plain gold band onto each other's ring fingers, Severus inner clock said that it was seven minutes after midnight. Bryan's timing was perfect.

A quiet reception, just a toast to the couple and a bit of cake, took place in the now spelled back to normal dining room. Severus knew they would be honoured at Ronald and Hermione's own wedding reception later that same evening, so he hadn't planned an elaborate one himself.

Fifteen minutes after midnight, Bryan's house was empty of all but family.

§§§§§§

Poking his head into the waiting room of his surgery, Ron couldn't help the smile that curled the corner of his lips. No one, not one person, could deny he had the cutest receptionist staff. Daisy, Clarence, and Marie were alternating between glaring at one poor sod who didn't look like he needed to be there to running triage on the others. Of course, that was not the reason they were the cutest – no, that was because the oldest of them was ten and the youngest was nine.

He had discovered after his first three receptionists – the adult ones – that the children were far better at picking out the patients who truly were there for his help and those that were there because he was Ron Weasley, best mate of Harry Potter. Add in the children's parents knew where they were and that he made sure they practised quill writing and basic Latin pronunciation, understood basic household charms and general potion ingredient preparation, as well as feeding them two meals, and the arrangement worked for everyone.

After a quick glance at the sod in the corner, he turned his attention to the youngest receptionist. "Marie, who is next?"

The brown skinned girl waved a young woman from her seat. "Mrs Periwinkle needs to see you, sir."

"This way, Mrs Periwinkle." Closing the door behind him, he smiled at her bemused expression. Those who were not regulars at his surgery all wore the same expression the first time.

"Why are they so young?" She sat down on the exam table, her hand resting over her stomach. "My husband and I just moved here, are there so few adults that you must employ children to work? Isn't it against the law?"

Shaking his head in a negative motion, Ron smiled slightly. "No, it is a work training program." Hermione had given him the name as they were not truly his apprentices.

"Oh! Why so young though?"

"Because they will be very busy once they head off to Hogwarts, so I must catch them early on." Ron let his smile fade as he pulled out a quill and parchment. "Now, what can I help you with today, Mrs Periwinkle?"

Blue eyes, the same colour as her namesake, clouded slightly. "The baby, it isn't moving as much as it was before we settled here."

Pulling his wand, Ron cast a monitoring charm, before continuing to find out her history.

Not long after assuring Mrs Periwinkle that all was fine with her and the baby, he was called out of his exam room by two voices that should not have been in his reception room.

Even though he was rushing, he made sure to appear calm and composed as he entered the room where his patients were waiting.

"Healer Weasley!" Claire's eyes darted about the room taking in the last couple of patients waiting before settling on him.

Torrance wrung his hands lightly before crossing the room and grabbing Ron's emergency bag. "There you are, sir."

The bag was pushed in to his grasp and the two eleven year olds were directing him out the door.

"The youngest Mitchell boy crashed the eldest's broom." Claire held the door open as she explained. "Torrance and I stabilized him the best we could, but he needs you now. We'll help here. At least we can get the usuals their potions and record the information for the others so you can read over it when you get back."

Glancing back at his patients, he noticed all the usuals were nodding and the poor sod who still had not revealed his reason for being there glaring. With a quick returned nod, he Apparated to the Mitchell's farm. Even as he knelt next to Jerry, Ron made a mental note to let Madam Pomfrey know that two of her incoming students are fully qualified to stabilize and administer potions to patients.

§§§§§§

Setting back in his chair at the receptionist desk, Ron closed the last patient file. The room was empty, even the poor sod, who turned out to be a reporter for some paper he had never heard of, was taken care of.

The door opened, jerking his attention to it, his hand automatically reaching for his bag. He dropped it and grinned. "Harry! I wasn't expecting you today."

Harry grinned and shrugged. "I was passing by?"

"Sure, mate." Ron gestured toward a seat. "What happened? Did Miriam get back with Severus and he is lost in research, or are you escaping the house because of all the extra people there?"

Harry's quiet laugh assured him that he wasn't too far off. Glancing at the books on the lower shelf behind the desk, Ron smiled slightly. It was after Christmas dinner – the one before their dual weddings – and the presents were distributed that he pulled Severus aside and handed him an invitation to the Cotsworth's home to discuss the possibility of publishing his notes. In the past six years there were three books published in the _Potions Explained_ series: Secondary School Years 1-5, Secondary School Years 6-7, Healers-in-training Years 1-2. He and Jeremiah were credited in the last book, and at this moment Severus was finishing one for Aurors-in-training, so Kingsley and other Aurors were spending long evenings at Harry's place.

"Mrs Cotsworth has convinced him to add another to his series: _Potions Explained: Apprentice Potions Master_. He was concerned about who would buy it, but she explained if he wrote it at the level she expected him to, that no one else would want to. No one but Healers-in-training seem to buy that group, well, except Potions Masters who also brew those potions." Harry grinned as he sat on the edge of the desk instead of the chair. "He has almost finished the Auror book. Kingsley is about the only Auror who has withstood Severus' personality, so the flat isn't too crowded. So, no that isn't the reason I'm here. No, it is … I don't know what to do for Valentine's Day."

"Severus will have something planned for you." Ron knew a sappy smile slipped on his lips, but he couldn't help it, no one ever expected Severus Snape to be romantic. Many still didn't, but the entire Weasley family knew far better.

Five years ago come this Valentine's Day they were all standing in a Ministry Official Bonder's parlour watching Harry and Severus speak their vows. That was the first sign that Severus was a secret romantic person – he was the one who arranged the entire bonding ceremony, including the time and place. He also knew that every Valentine's Day afterwards Severus would have a surprise for Harry, one that started at seven minutes after midnight.

§§§§§§

Harry smiled softly. He knew Severus would have something planned. The shower of rose petals at seven minutes after midnight on their first anniversary might have been a shock, but the slow dancing in candlelight the second one wasn' anything else that Severus had come up with since then. "I want to do something for him though, Ron. I know we will celebrate our anniversary in the early morning, but we will spend the rest of the day working with customers either attempting to rectify someone's potions mistake, or curing them of an ill-advised or unwanted love potion. The next day will be just as bad."

Ron's sigh made Harry shake his head. "Yes, I know, you see the same crowd or worse. What are your plans?"

Ron smiled. "I am taking Hermione out dancing."

Harry's eyes widened. "The gala the Ministry is putting on? The Masquerade?"

Ron nodded. "I figured it was about time I officially asked her to one since I missed my chance during our fourth year. She'll enjoy it, and then we'll come home and have a wonderful evening to ourselves before the crowds descend the day after. Why don't you take Severus out for dinner? I know, it is a typical thing, but it is still nice."

"Dinner? Maybe we can go some place different." Thoughts of beaches, mountains, and foreign cities flitted through his mind. "I will have to arrange a portkey or find somewhere we can Apparate to that is close enough to be back by morning, but that might be fun."

§§§§§§

On Valentine's Day, just after the clock struck midnight, the sound of soft classical music work Harry from a dream-filled sleep. Leaving his eyes shut, he listened to the mellow tones of the cello backed up by the deep thrums of the bass and soared over by the violins. Even as the winds wove their way into the melody, warm hands brushed across his sides and down his legs.

"That sounds and feels lovely, Severus." Harry opened his eyes and smiled at the man leaning over him. "Happy anniversary."

Fingers glided through his hair and down his cheek as the dark eyes above him warmed.

"Happy anniversary, Harry."

Soft thin lips pressed onto his, tempting Harry into a world filled with passion, music, and the scent of roses, carnations, and Severus.

§§§§§§

Clarence did his best to hold the man in his chair without resorting to rope while Daisy ran into the back.

"Healer Weasley!" Daisy's voice came through the door just as Ron administered the sleeping draught to his current patient.

"Coming," Ron rushed out the door, gesturing for the ten year old to go in. "Make sure that Ms Bratton falls asleep and not off the table."

Daisy nodded and darted passed him as he strode to the waiting room. The sounds of a struggle changed his pace to a sprint.

" _Stupefy!_ " The spell left his lips the moment his entered the room and the man slumped into his seat, capturing Clarence against the arm of it. Freeing the boy, Ron checked the man's vitals while waiting for Clarence to get his breath back.

"He was dropped off by Madam Bridgeport, she said he was acting strange after meeting a girl in the tavern." Clarence sounded winded.

"Did she say how?" Ron bit back a sigh when the boy shook his head no. "Marie, run down to Brewer's Tavern and get a report from Madam Bridgeport and any other patrons there about how this man was acting."

Running a critical eye over Clarence, he nodded towards the far desk. "I'm taking him to the back, you sit over there and rest. If anything hurts, let me know."

Clarence held the door for the floating body. "Yes, sir. I'll also send Marie back to you the moment she gets back. Would you like some tea while we're slow?"

Ron nodded. "That would be lovely."

§§§§§§

Severus watched as Harry skilfully manipulated the belligerent customer into one of the small rooms he opened just for today. Shooing Harry back to the front, Severus closed the door, leaving the customer to face him. Reading the note Harry had tucked into his hand when he slipped out, he trapped a growl in his throat.

Barton! Yes, he really liked the man, but this was going too far. That Healer expected him to administer the antidote to this misapplied love potion. True, it was his creation, and it would cure the man, but the Healer could have just sent for the potion versus sending him the patient. _'It's payback for not giving them the recipe.'_

A quick binding spell later, he pried the man's jaws open and poured the cure down the man's throat. Luckily the man swallowed, Severus would have hated to force him to – he didn't have the best bedside manners.

A shudder wracked the short man's thin frame and his eyes closed. Soon sobs came from the once clenched tight lips.

Severus opened the door and ended his binding spell. One look around his front room was all he needed to spot the man's companion. "You can take him now. He will be emotional for the next twenty-four hours."

"Thank you, Master Snape." The older man slid three coins across the front counter and then walked into the small room, collecting the man. "Come on, Rupert, we need to go home."

"Oliver, she … she … poisoned me!" Rupert clung to Oliver's arm as they exited the store.

Shutting the small room's door, Severus headed back to his lab. Valentine's Day was one that he was always glad to see the end of the business day. Today was even more so. Harry suggested they had plans for the night and he couldn't wait to see what they were.

§§§§§§

Flinging a dark blue cloak over his impeccable eighteenth century evening clothes, Ron hunted down the powdered wig and mask to finish the look. Hermione met him downstairs, her skirts making her stand sideways in the hall. Running an appreciative look over her, Ron decided that the dark gold dress edged with lace fitted her to perfection. Her hair was powdered and arranged in curls the back and high in the front, making her face look dainty.

Offering her an arm, he smiled down at her. "Are you ready?"

A beaming smile flashed up at him. "Let's go. It shall be interesting to Apparate in these skirts."

Laughing, he pulled her close and twisted them about, popping them out of their hall and into the Apparation point at the Ministry chosen ballroom. A quick stroll brought them to the ballroom door. Handing over their invitations, Ron swept Hermione through before the man could comment on who they were.

All about them were people dressed up as anyone from the Roman era to the modern one. There were fantastical creatures, mythological ones, people of legend, and everything in between. The room was swathed in every shade of red imaginable, and the ceiling was the night sky.

Pulling Hermione onto the dance floor, Ron swooped her about. He did his best not to step on her feet while paying attention to the width of her skirts – the last thing he wanted to do was to run over other dancers.

The happiness glowing in those brown eyes was bright enough to remove the memory of Hermione's expression during the fourth year Yule ball.

As they slipped out onto a balcony after the dance, Ron decided it was a perfect night. He was positive of it when Hermione kissed him under the cloak of darkness.

§§§§§§

Harry locked the doors behind the last patron who was now free of his stomach ache – he had eaten too much chocolate – and turned to convince Severus to leave his lab which he had been holed up in for the last three hours, hiding as much as he could from their patrons.

"Severus," Harry called out as he poked his head into the lab. "We need to change into something more... Muggle like. Not super fancy, but nice."

Severus looked up from his cauldron, his smile wreathed with the fumes rising from its surface. "Give me ten minutes, and I'll be up."

With a wave of his hand, Harry headed up the stairs to pick out just what he wanted to wear. Tonight was going to be perfect, he hoped.

An hour later found them in a small restaurant in Bath. Harry used to visit it with Hermione occasionally while Ron was still in St Thaddeus. After they were seated and their order taken, he could see Severus visibly relax.

Harry reached across the table and rested his hand next to Severus'. "I hope you don't mind dinner out tonight. I know it has been tradition for us to cook it together..." He trailed off as Severus shook his head.

"I don't mind, Harry. It is nice to find some place not too pink on this day." Severus smiled, his eyes warm with the pleasure of where he was and whom he was with.

Harry returned the smile and let himself relax as well. Tonight was going to be perfect. After dinner they would go walk on the seashore, let the waves caress their bare feet while they enjoyed the salty breezes, and then before either of them were too tired, they would go home. It was going to be a quiet romantic evening – just the thing both of them needed.

§§§§§§

Ron shut the door quietly behind him, leaving Hermione tucked under the covers, sleeping soundly. It was time to open the Surgery and see who would come in. Clarence, Daisy, and Marie would be there shortly to help sort out the patients. Today was going to be busier than yesterday.

§§§§§§

Harry warmed up the Brown Betty, the kettle already on the hob. Breakfast was over an hour ago, and he knew he was ready for a cuppa. Experience told him that Severus would be as well.

A few minutes later, with a plate of shortbread to go with the tea, Harry headed down to the lab. No matter how much time had passed since he first ran through that door, he still wanted to show just how much he cherished the man he loved.


End file.
